


Blake And The Beast

by CQueen



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: M/M, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:19:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 96,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CQueen/pseuds/CQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sort of retelling of Disney's 'Beauty and the Beast', with Detective Blake taken hostage by Bane and forced to stay in his company.</p><p>Will Blake be able to see beyond Bane's mask to the man underneath?</p><p>Can Bane learn to love?</p><p>And can they both survive the consequences?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tale As Old As Time

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all my poor victims in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that must be how it remains for obvious reasons.

So I was trying to come up with a title for the other Blake/Bane fanfic I have and one of the ones I came up with made me realize how easily the Disney version of 'Beauty and the Beast' could be retold through the two men. And so, thanks to the power of my muses, this story was born. Hope you enjoy and suggestions for incorporations and casting welcome.

Tale As Old As Time

Bane stood with his men around him as he waited for the enemy to arrive. Not that he considered what remained of the Gotham police department truly worthy of being called his enemy, but they were on opposing sides of the war being fought for the city. Of the group he was expecting Bane considered only Gordon and the one called Blake to be of any interest or threat to them. The former because the old man was in charge, largely responsible for the continued corruption of Gotham, and because of the commissioner's connection to the Bat. His interest in the younger man…was harder for him to comprehend.

As though his thoughts had conjured them into this time and place they came into sight through the snow that had begun to fall, the lesser ranked cops protecting Gordon on all sides. Seven in total, the fools no doubt thinking a little luck couldn't hurt.

Of course Gordon was a fool for thinking that he cared that the men coming towards him had managed to capture five of his men. They thought they were here to negotiate the return of those men in exchange for whatever the commissioner thought to demand but really…he'd agreed to the meeting only to see the old man's face when he realized that he could care less about the men incompetent enough to be caught by these parasites upon the world.

It happened quickly, the two groups close enough to see each other clearly. Naturally Bane and his men sensed the threat first, all of them genuinely surprised that the cops had been able to get a sniper through the security net they'd placed over the immediate area for this meeting. Barsad was moving with lightning quick reflexes to take the shot to end the man's life when he saw through the scope the significant distance between them and the unknown element.

"M40 rifle. Target the cops. Can't guarantee I'll hit him with this."

Bane had just opened his mouth to give the order to try anyway when the shot was fired.

As they watched one of the cops was torn to pieces of meat, clearing the way for the real target which only one man seemed to realize as Blake yelled something they didn't catch and shoved the commissioner into other cops, making them all stumble as the second shot was fired, blood flying from the young detective's flesh this time as the bullet seared through the man's raised, upper left arm.

There was no third shot as Barsad, knowing that Gordon was to be kept alive for the time being, opened fire, knowing his own skill and weapon enough to compensate and distract the sniper long enough for the undamaged cops to hustle Gordon out of the area and to safety, the commissioner calling out for someone to grab Blake, who was lying still and unmoving on the white snow stained red.

But they were either cowards or so ignorant and unaware of what had happened that they thought their comrade dead. He was not dead though, simply unconscious Bane noted as he walked over to inspect the other man for himself. His men would take care of their uninvited guest.

Hunkering down Bane saw the broken piece of concrete under the snow, its position relative to the police officer's head explaining why the boy wasn't awake and possibly slipping into a shock due to pain and blood loss. Quite the bump, he noted as he slid a hand through the dark hair, finding it easily.

"The sniper's been taken down and is being escorted to you."

He'd expected no less. "We're taking this one with us as well."

Barsad nodded and hunkered down as Bane rose, knowing the young man before them was now his responsibility until his leader said otherwise. Why that was…well Bane must have a reason.

The man always did.

)

Sitting on the side of the large bed Bane watched the Gotham detective sleep, a habit he'd developed over the six days the man had been his captive. There had been only a few bone fragments to retrieve and they'd kept the detective drugged the whole time while the wound was left open to confirm the lack of infection. They'd 'arranged' for a Gotham surgeon to prepare a skin graft and had brought the detective back to their current base of operations as soon as the surgery had been finished. Barsad would take over Blake's care from now on. There was bound to be muscle damage, that wouldn't grow back, but the man would probably be able to use the arm again provided he allowed the other man to live to be blown up. He hadn't decided, Bane mused, mostly because he wasn't even sure why he'd saved the detective in the first place.

Though perhaps he did. Detective Robin John Blake interested him and he wouldn't have the opportunity to figure him out if he was dead due to infection or lack of medical care.

The personal interest had flared four weeks ago when he'd chanced to see Blake's mask slip for just a moment as he was observing the man while the other man was unaware. He'd seen the darkness and demons that lived inside the detective and had been intrigued.

He knew all there was to know about the man in theory, they'd accessed all the police records before they'd taken over the city in order to know who they would be dealing with. The police would be Gotham's first line of defense after all. Once Blake had been singled out as one of Gordon's closest companions they'd looked into the man's history in far more detail, wanting to know what made the mere detective valuable to the commissioner. So he knew the man had been orphaned young, about every foster home he'd been forced into before the boy's home, which Blake had resided in until eighteen. He knew the grades the man had received in the academy, his evaluations from his superiors once he'd joined the force, and when the man had been promoted to detective and why. And while the detective's childhood would explain what he'd been in the man's dark eyes that day…the man's adulthood was spotless.

Blake had no known vices, his record was clean, and no history of violence past his mid-teens. He'd looked deeply and there was no indication that the man had simply gotten smarter and more skilled at hiding his demons. In the end the most deviant thing his informants had been able to uncover about Blake was that the man was a homosexual, though one with no sex life apparently.

Which frankly made no sense to Bane. He'd grown up in The Pit, he knew that men who looked like Blake were highly prized and sought after sexually. The man would have caused a riot, the primitive structure bathed in blood as the inmates fought for the right to take the detective.

"You would not have survived long." Bane told the unconscious man, not sure why that fact bothered him.

And so he stayed silent and contemplative, watching every rise and fall of the man's chest as though he somehow needed to be there to will it. How long he was there he didn't know, but assumed it was close to two hours when he heard the door open and familiar footsteps walking across the hardwood floors to him.

"When I suggested you get a pet this wasn't what I meant, my friend." Talia teased him as she leaned against his back, studying the detective over his broad shoulder. "Though he is rather cute."

A pet? Blake?

She had said something like that to him a couple weeks ago, chiding him for worrying about her too much. She'd thought a pet would do him good because then he'd have someone else to worry and fuss over since he had no interest in romantic relationships.

"You think I should keep him as a pet?"

Eyes widening in surprise, she'd been joking after all, Talia looked at the boy on the bed with more interest. She knew that the detective interested her protector, she knew everything there was to know about Bane after all. So she knew he'd looked deeply into Detective Blake's past, unnecessarily so in her opinion. Personally she didn't see the appeal, though it would be interesting…just what would Bane do with the man if he kept him?

"Keep him then. He can amuse you since we're in a lull period. He'll be easy enough to dispose of later, and given how fond Gordon is of him…we'll it will turn the screws that much more, wondering what happened to the man who saved him." The city was theirs, and for the moment they could enjoy that victory before the next phase of their plan needed to go into effect. Toying with the occupants of Gotham was all the pleasure she could take for now.

He thought to say he didn't desire a human 'pet' of all things, but it occurred to him that if he did Talia was likely to order him to either torture or kill Blake. She'd been full of questions when she'd learned he had Blake and was seeing that the man was cared for properly. Talia hadn't ordered him to kill the detective, if she had the man would be dead, but she'd obviously found his excuse, that he thought Blake could be useful to them, weak. But she'd allowed it and hadn't given the order. He didn't want that to happen. Not yet anyway.

"I will keep him then."

"All right. I'll leave him with you then. And I should go, I wouldn't want him to catch sight of me after all. Just in case. I just wanted to see you for a bit."

Talia gave his a kiss on the cheek, her lips brushing against both skin and leather before she left his side, heading out of the room as stealthily as she'd come.

Most people would never hear her coming unless she wanted them to.

)

It was the pain that woke him, his arm throbbing worse than a rotten tooth. Eyes opening slowly Blake turned his head in the direction of the pain, taking in the arm lying on top of the unfamiliar covers, bandaged up. He remembered…damn he'd been lucky. Any higher or inward and it would have damaged his shoulder and bones. Luckier still that…but no…no he didn't know this bed, this place, Blake realized, his breathing becoming even more ragged as he forced himself to steady the beat of his pounding heart, knowing he couldn't panic or act rashly.

And it was while he was trying to take control of his body that Blake sensed the eyes on him from some dark corner of the room. Penetrating, powerful eyes that were both familiar and not. A gaze they tied his guts in knots and sent his heart into overdrive.

"Who's there?"

When the figure detached himself from the shadows Blake knew who it was even before the light from the bedside table reached him. There was only one man that big.

"Bane."

"Detective Blake."

Arm forgotten Blake stared, understanding the danger he was in now. He must have been captured and…and why would the man bandage his wound? Why was he in a comfortable bed in a warm room instead of bleeding out in some cell or already executed to remove him from the picture? Bane wasn't the sort to care about the comfort or wellbeing of his enemy, he wasn't the type to take hostages period. You met Bane and he killed you.

"You lost a chunk of flesh, but it only chipped the bone. Are you in pain?"

Forcing himself not to ask why he would care Blake shook his head, not wanting any more drugs in his system. He wasn't chained, if he was to get away he needed to be as awake and aware as possible. He'd use the pain to keep focused. "Am I your hostage?"

"No. It seems you are my pet."

"I'm…I'm what?"

"My pet. I will keep you as such until circumstances change and I end your life. This will be your room, if you need anything important it will be brought to you."

He told himself he must have heard wrong but Blake knew that wasn't the case. It wasn't the drugs or the pain or damage done to his brain since the shooting. The mastermind behind the impending destruction of his city, the greatest criminal and murderer Gotham City had ever faced…had just told him that he was now his pet.

"Why? Why am I your pet?" The man was a loner, every piece of information they'd gathered on the hulking figure before him had indicated that only the man known as Barsad mattered to Bane. All his other men were expendable. And it couldn't be a sexual thing, the man was said to be asexual. Neither woman nor man interested him.

"You interest me."

Okay…maybe their information was wrong.

Acutely aware of the soft bed beneath him now Blake felt all the air leave his lungs. He'd always had a thing for large men so against his will he'd been a little…stirred up by his brief glimpses of Bane thanks to the size and dangerous allure of the man before him. So he'd had a few weak moments where he'd imagined what it would be like…and decided that he'd end up in the emergency room were that ever to happen. And that would be if he were a willing participant.

Trying to remind himself that rape was one of the few things not on the man's rap sheet Blake kept his voice calm as he asked what Bane expected of him as a 'pet'. It would be pointless to argue that idea with him, not until he was able to sit up at the very least.

"I don't know. I've never had a pet."

What he wanted to say was that the man should either get it over with and kill him or let him go, but Blake knew the latter wasn't an option and he should try to avoid the first if possible. He wasn't afraid to die, but he still had a city to save if possible.

"I'm confined to this room?"

"You don't have the strength to leave the bed. You're weak."

Bristling at the insinuation Blake pushed aside the covers with his good arm, shutting down his pain receptors as he refused to acknowledge or heed their warnings. With his hand braced on the mattress he sat up, vision swimming for a moment as his body's weak state made itself known in spades. But dammit, he would not back down.

Weak in body, but not so much in mind, Bane noted in silent approval, watching the man try to force his drained form into moving as he bade it. And as tempting as it was to let the detective make a fool of himself…

"Stay in bed or I will chain you to it."

Freezing, Blake considered pushing things and then called himself an idiot as he lay back down on the bed. He wouldn't stand a chance against the other man even at peak condition, and what was important right now was figuring his situation out, not proving his manhood. He shouldn't and wouldn't give a damn what Bane thought of him. He knew what he was worth and no one could take that away from him.

So instead he went quiet, eyes flickering against his will to his aching wound before he turned his attention back to Bane. "Abernathy…Abernathy was killed. I remember that. Anyone else? Did the others escape your sniper?"

"If he'd been mine he wouldn't have missed." There was just a hint of amusement in the man's voice. "The sniper was an assassin your former commissioner put away years ago. He wished to revenge his captivity in Arkham for the past seven years. I killed him."

Blake laced his words with sarcasm. "Why didn't you recruit him? Because he missed?"

"Gordon is to remain alive for now."

Taking the steps necessary Bane returned to his earlier seat on the side of the bed, rather amused by the way the other man's eyes went wide at the move. But he didn't inch away, that spirit he could see burning in those big brown eyes no doubt keeping the detective in place. No one liked being physically close to him except Talia, Barsad indifferent though always aware of him. He was used to it.

"You showed relief moments ago, and would have given your life for Gordon. Why?"

Any number of responses occurred to Blake, but he kept it simple. "Because that's my job. That's why I became a cop."

"To throw your life away on the undeserving?"

Blake stared back at him coolly. "Says the man risking his life for an ideal that will never come to pass. Even if you destroy Gotham, and burn it to the ground, the human spirit isn't as easily destroyed as brick and mortar. You can't cleanse a world, and you're as dumb as some mistake you for to believe otherwise."

Showing just how fast he could move in spite of his size Bane had his fingers wrapped around Blake's neck in a flash, squeezing lightly. For the moment. "Do you wish to die?"

"Do you always kill people who don't agree with you?" There was no fear in Blake's eyes, he was too used to being in deadly situations to show it. And he didn't think Bane was stupid, so he knew that there had to be something to the man wanting him as some sort of 'pet'. Which he most definitely couldn't be if he were dead.

"You live only while you amuse me."

"I'll keep that in mind."


	2. A Dangerous Pastime

As soon as the door closed behind Bane, the man's footsteps audible in their retreat, Blake let himself collapse back onto his pillow, grabbing another with his good hand to pull over his face to muffle his groans a little. Shit his arm hurt like hell. And shit but the son of a bitch had scared the hell out of him. He'd seen, in those steel blue eyes, how little effort it would take the other man to squeeze the life out of him or snap his neck like a toothpick. Holy Shit.

Blake let himself wallow in that for a while and then forced himself to move on to what Bane had said once he'd let his throat go and backed off. Apparently, once he was able, he would be allowed out of the room he was in and would be free to wander throughout the house with the exception of the west wing. When he'd asked what was in the west wing Bane had growled that it was forbidden and then left.

Once he was up to defending himself that wing was numero uno on his places to visit.

But right now he could barely get out of bed and he had to accept that. Pushing himself before he was ready would just get him dead faster than you could say the current master of the house's name. So for the time being he had to concentrate on what he could do, Blake told himself firmly, which was try to figure out why the hell he interested Bane and how that translated to the man suddenly wanting him for a pet.

After twenty minutes the detective couldn't come up with a single reason why he would interest Bane and moved to the second part of the question.

He didn't remember having a pet before he'd been orphaned, and after that he hadn't been placed anywhere that kept animals. At least not four legged ones, Blake corrected with a flash of dark humor, before pushing the darkness back where it belonged. That aspect of his personality wasn't useful…at the moment.

As a workaholic he'd never thought it fair to have a pet, and to be honest he'd always figured that taking care of one was too much of a commitment and not worth the trouble. But he did know people who owned pets and why they did so. They wanted the animal for companionship, for the unconditional love animals seemed to manage when humans tended to fail epically most of the time.

Did Bane…want him around for company? Was the Big Bad Bane lonely?

It seemed ridiculous at first thought, but he'd also studied all the info Bruce had sent him before disappearing, as well as the info he and others had gathered during their occupation. The man was currently at the top of the bad guy food chain, and leaders tended to be surrounded by ass kissers, subordinates, and people attracted to what that leader could get them. Bane only seemed to value his main lieutenant, but talented, loyal help was hard to find, especially in the criminal underworld.

Personally it would drive him nuts to be surrounded by people who kowtowed to him all the time, even more so when many of them would probably tear into him like rabid hyenas at any sign of weakness. He knew what it was to have people tell you what they thought you should hear rather than the truth. To be lied to so that it would make it easier on the people who were supposed to be understanding and helping him.

But this wasn't about him, this was what he might have to offer that the other man wanted. He knew he was expendable in Bane's eyes, the man probably didn't figure that it would matter what he did or didn't tell Blake about himself or the situation they found themselves in. Bane saw him as weak, easily disposed of, and helpless.

The hell with that, Blake thought as he threw aside the pillow, grinching his teeth determinedly against the searing pain in his arm and head.

He was many things, but first and foremost he was and always would be a survivor.

And he'd been wearing masks like Batman and Bane for a very long time, thank you very much. He knew how to alter his behavior to get him what he wanted, to disguise his real thoughts and intentions. When Bane came back…he'd find out what mask he needed to survive this until he could get out.

)

Blake was ready for the man when he returned that evening. He was a little surprised to see the man playing waiter, guessing that the bowl of soup was for him since Bane would have to take off that mask of his to consume it. The man never took that hideous mouthpiece off according to their intel. Whether it served a purpose other than to terrify and make Bane appear that much less human…well that was open for debate and not one of the questions he intended to ask.

When the tray was set down on his lap he thanked Bane politely, picking up his spoon without hesitation. Yes the man might have put something in it, but he was going to risk it. He needed nutrition more than he needed caution at this point. The others would have moved from headquarters already anyway, just to be on the safe side.

A little amused by the man's thanks, it had been so polite and proper, Bane took his earlier seat on the side of the bed, watching the man eat his soup until Blake asked him a question.

"So what do you want to know about me?"

He preferred to be blunt, and saw no reason to beat around the bush so to speak. The sooner he understood Blake the sooner he could get rid of him. "You have great darkness in you, yet you control it and wear the mask of the good and righteous. Why?"

It threw him for a moment, several actually, but Blake's logical mind pointed out that while there had been other reasons he'd suspected Bruce Wayne of being Batman it was meeting him, seeing the mask the older man wore in public, that had made him recognize a kindred spirit. Why shouldn't Bane be able to do the same?

Thinking through his answer Blake shrugged and did his best to appear at ease with it. "Not too long ago I told someone that few people understand being angry down to their very bones…and that's my darkness. The need to lash out at the people who took my parents from me, at the people who couldn't understand me or didn't even try to. At people who didn't actually deserve the crap I gave them but seemed to at the time. There's hate in there too but…even at my worst I always had lines I refused to cross. Lines that kept me from becoming like the people I should be out arresting instead of lounging about in here. I use my darkness, I don't let it use and control me. Not anymore."

Bane considered this. "You believe my darkness controls me?"

"No. No you use yours too. You use it to create more."

"It would seem then, that I am more successful in my goals." He understood why Blake couldn't see, couldn't understand. He'd known as soon as Barsad had drawn his attention to the tattoo that had been inked just below the man's neck that first night. Even before that he'd known of the man's fascination with the Batman, but he hadn't known the man's was so loyal he would brand himself with the vigilante's mark.

He'd been very tempted to order that removed, but his inability to understand why had made him keep his mouth shut.

"Darkness destroys." There was no doubt in Blake's voice as he absently stirred his soup with his spoon. "I'm a survivor. I want to live too much to destroy myself that way. But then…we're very different, you and I."

"You think I don't value my life?"

"I don't know you well enough to answer that. You'll have to ask me again later."

A slight cocking of his head was Bane's only indication of interest. "You believe I'll let you live long enough to know me? That I'm so easily cracked?"

Blake surprised himself as much as Bane when he outright laughed at that idea. "I could live a thousand years and not truly understand you. It would be…like the social workers or foster parents or shrinks…they all said they understood but they didn't and couldn't. You can't understand unless you know and…I know pain. I know anger and hate and a lot of other nasty shit…but I can't say, can't imagine what it's like to be you. To live the life you've lived. It's why I can't hate you…though believe me I've tried."

Boy had he ever tried.

Every muscle in his body tensing, which was saying something, Bane's eyes narrowed as they stared into Blake's. The look in them wasn't threatening per say, but they were sharp as a blade and sought to cut through the detective's shields to the explanation he wanted.

"What do you mean by that?" Bane said each word like a statement, prepared to use force if necessary to get an answer.

Well that's got your interest, Blake thought weakly as he forced himself to consume a little more soup to wet his suddenly very dry throat. Dammit, he hadn't even meant to say that last little bit outloud. It had just come out with the rest of the stuff because…well because there was something about the way the man looked at him that made him feel like he should be upfront about where they stood currently. Talk frankly and as equals so that he wouldn't be written off as too weak and pathetic to be interesting without betraying how strong he really was. Not to mention the fact that trying to lie or flatter the man wouldn't work; Bane was far too intelligent for that. Understood people too well and their tells.

"What part are you asking about?"

"Why can't you hate me?" Detective Blake was devoted to his city, his naïve ideals and beliefs. How could the cop claim not to hate him? Because it wasn't a ploy, he believed what he saw in those eyes that watching him just as closely.

"Why do you care?"

Bane leaned in a little. "Do you think it wise to push me? Especially twice in one day."

"If you want blind obedience and someone to parrot your ideas back to you go talk to one of your lemming lackeys."

The fierce light in the detective's eyes annoyed him, the strength and spirit in them. Detective Blake needed to be reminded of who he was dealing with, Bane coldly decided. And he knew exactly how to do that.

"I think you'd retract your statement of non-hatred were you to see what remained of your Batman once I'd finished with him."

As Bane watched the spoon hit the bowl and tumbled onto the tray, the muscles in the younger man's face and throat working hard while the detective's hands fisted despite the pain that must have caused the left arm. He couldn't see the man's eyes though, Blake staring down at the bowl instead.

Wanting to see what was in them now Bane was just about to order Blake to look at him when the man's head raised and the detective's gaze met his.

The Batman's eyes.

Not the color or the shape, but the look in them. Blake's were less tired, the fire still bright and passionate, but still... Just as he had been honed by blood and violence, shaped into a weapon of untold destruction, his adversary and the man who sat before him had been honed and shaped into shields. It wasn't their purpose in life to kill, but to prevent the blood of those they protected from being shed. Their only purpose in life.

He could break Blake, Bane knew in that moment, but not bend, warp, or brainwash him.

Detective Blake would have walked away from the League of Shadows just like Wayne.

)

He'd known that Bane was responsible for Batman's disappearance. Kyle had been skimpy on the details when he'd caught her, she hadn't wanted to talk about it and was more afraid of Bane than anything he might have been able to threaten her with legally. But he knew enough to know that Bruce had been hurt, bad, to the point where the injuries had likely been life threatening. Hadn't he spent many a sleepless night wondering if it was his fault, pushing his idol to step up again before the man was ready? Making the older man act before he'd trained enough to be up to the task of facing Bane's men, much less Bane himself. It had been all he could think about the week after his hero had vanished.

The man watching him so closely would know the depth of his loyalty, he'd gotten his Batman tattoo for that reason. That Bane was throwing Bruce in his face now was no accident. Did the man want to see him truly angry, see him lose control and let the darkness take him?

Well you're going to be disappointed, Blake told Bane with his eyes. Because he would honor Bruce Wayne the only way he knew how, and that was by continuing to follow his example. He would never let the anger and pain blind him to his purpose in life.

It was strength of his convictions that kept him in line as Blake asked the question he'd needed an answer to since Batman had disappeared. "Is he still alive?"

"I should answer your question when you won't answer mine?" Bane returned, refusing to let what he saw in those brown eyes throw him.

"A trade then. I'll answer your question if you answer mine. On my word."

Bane considered this, weighing the pros and cons. Even if he did allow Blake to return to his men for some reason it wouldn't matter that the detective would tell others that the Batman still lived. It would just give them false hope that their savior would come. It might even make Wayne suffer more, if he were to see to it that it reached the man's ears that Gotham's people though he'd simply abandoned them to their fate.

"He lives until Gotham dies."

Closing his eyes Blake gave himself just a moment of relief, of joy and thankfulness before opening them, having given his word. They needed to establish the validity of his word for future discussions and demands.

"In my line of work most everyone has an excuse for what they do. It wasn't my fault I beat my kid half to death, my old man did the same to me when I was little. My mom was a druggie, it's her fault I got hooked and killed that old man for his wallet. Broken home, no money, got fired…the list goes on and on. Bad beginnings justifying bad behavior." Pause. "And that's bullshit, total bullshit, but a lot of them don't see that. Don't realize how much worse they could have had it, can't see that they made choices, had choices, and chose to stay in the muck rather than haul themselves out. It always comes down to choices."

Blake paused to take a calming breath and sent a quick prayer up to heaven that he wasn't about to cross a really big, death causing line. The Batman had sent him everything he'd learned about Bane and in the other man's place he wouldn't want people knowing, reminding him. But he'd given his word, so he gave Bane the answer he sought.

"I can't hate you because you never had a choice. Of all the real criminals I've come up against you're the only one I can truly say that about and mean it. I don't know all of it, but I know you grew in in a place that could probably double as hell, and that you were put there just after you were born. They put you in a prison, a pit full of criminals who had to be barely human, if for no other reason than the situation they were-."

"How do you know about The Pit?"

Flinching at the harshness of that mechanical voice, not to mention the muscles that continued to bulge and flex like a predator preparing to spring, Blake cursed his reaction even as he swallowed hard. "A friend of a friend. Al's one hell of a hacker apparently."

Or at least he assumed Wayne's butler was, since the man had found out more about Bane than the reporters on the news had.

"Where is this Al?" He didn't like the idea that this Al person could publicize the existence of The Pit, potentially leading people straight to Wayne. The Batman was going to remain right where he'd left him unless he found the strength to get out himself. That was acceptable, others meddling was not.

"He got out before you took over and I have no idea where he is. I only met him once."

And it would be better for him to hurry up and finish his explanation while Bane mulled that over, Blake decided. "I figure being surrounded by those people, having only them to learn from…you couldn't have learned to make good choices, there wouldn't have been any to make anyway. Just varying degrees of bad and worse. To survive…I can't imagine what that costed, what you had to pay in body and mind to do that. Monsters made you what you are, and I can hate them. Frankly, I hope they know a hell even worse than that pit they put you in for what they did to you and those other poor bastards. And I hate the things you do just as much…but I understand why you'd think violence is the only way to change things. Violence is all you know."


	3. Till Chapter Three

Till Chapter Three

If what he saw in the man's eyes and heard in Blake's voice had been anything other than simple understanding Bane would have killed the man then and there. But there was no pity or compassion, no empty words or spiels about how he should try to rise above his beginnings or be better than what the world had made him. What he'd made himself into to survive that world. This man did not know the horrors he knew…but understood that there was nothing that could be said to change what had already been done. The understanding he felt from the detective was a simple one without any insult or hidden agenda. This man wasn't saying he understood what his life had been like, he was saying he understood what that life had done to him enough not to hate him.

"You would be better off hating me."

"It would make my life easier, yeah."

Unable to shake the feeling that he was being manipulated even though he knew Blake was just being honest with him, Bane stayed silent as he simply studied the man who watched him just as intently. Blake knew he wouldn't stand a chance, and still the detective refused to bow beneath his dominance and act accordingly.

Which both challenged and…intrigued him even more.

Was that the man's appeal to him, Bane wondered, a possible answer occurring to him. He had no one to pit himself against anymore, no one he considered worthy of his time and attention. Gotham was his, the Batman incapacitated…he was not a man for idleness. There was potential in this Detective Blake, a light in the man that was rare and so strong that even he, in some part of himself, was drawn to it against his will.

He wanted to know that light, test his own strength and power against it.

Okay…Blake had no idea how to interpret the look that had come into the other man's eyes. It wasn't sexual, exactly, but it suggested a need to possess, to dominate. To know him inside and out as deeply as one person could know another.

And that had the detective's hormones roaring to life before he could draw in his next shaky breath, electricity buzzing through his body as he became intimately aware of the huge alpha male sitting so close to him. It was a shock to his system that had him struggling to remain in control as his body and mind fought to be heard and return that look and intention.

He loved dominance games, pitting himself against his lovers for the sheer pleasure of making a man work for the right to take him.

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Feeling a similar blow to his chest Bane didn't know what the hell to think about the slight changes he perceived in the other man's body language and eyes. He'd done nothing threatening and yet the man's breathing pattern had changed, the carotid artery pulsing frantically under the pale skin of the man's throat. And Blake's eyes had darkened and were heavily shielded now, hiding every emotion while still projecting a strange heat that made him wish to continue to stare into them.

Disliking the shields that now hid his quarry thoughts from him, especially since he wanted to know what had caused the shift in the detective's behavior, Bane played the Batman card again since that had broken through the man's calm so easily before. "You would not admire the Batman so if you knew who was behind that mask."

A small smile slid across Blake's face, his eyes softening. "I know who's behind the mask. Just a man. That's why he's my hero."

"Explain."

"In comic books the heroes have super powers, exposed to radiation, born a mutant, gifted with some magical item that made them better than human, made them super human. That's why the Batman was always my only hero, because he was better than that. He's a real hero because even though he's just a guy and could have just lived his life like everyone else he didn't. He stepped up when most everyone buried their heads in the sand and he did what needed to done without asking for anything in return. And sure he's messed up, made choices I sure as hell don't understand…but that's what makes him like me. That's what makes me believe I can be more than just some guy with a badge. That I can make a difference."

"You both failed to make a difference when I came to Gotham."

"Who says we're done trying yet?"

Leaning in on one arm Bane eyes held not an ounce of doubt. "I say."

Keeping his bad arm pressed against his chest protectively Blake leaned in on his good one, this bringing them within a breath of being nose to nose. "Not your first mistake…and it won't be the last."

"Angering me is always a mistake."

"Ditto."

)

It annoyed Bane how much he was looking forward to seeing Blake the next day. Enough that he almost stayed away, thinking he should perhaps give himself time to come up with a plan where the other man was concerned so that he handled their next meeting better. He'd never had contact with someone like Blake, someone who was both pure and yet damaged as well. A contradiction he couldn't quite reconcile in his mind.

The estate they were currently residing in had a large library, one that he was enjoying very much. From the looks of it the owner had collected the books not to read but to show off and give the appearance of being well read and educated. The great works were all in pristine condition, and he would be sorry to leave them behind when it came time for them to move on to another location. He could while away hours in the room, and it annoyed him that his decision to spend time there was marred by the question of whether or not he should take a couple that he'd already read up to Blake to read. The man's marks in school had been high enough to suggest academic intelligence, and he had long wished to have someone to talk to about the stories he read and loved so much. Talia was not one for reading, nor was Barsad. Neither understood the appeal but perhaps Blake did.

Even if he didn't the man was now his pet, wasn't he? That meant that he could order the detective to read the books he wanted him to and then make the man talk to him about them. If Blake refused he could always threaten to do harm to the city, that would work well enough. A shield like Blake would most certainly be willing to spend a few hours reading in order to prevent that.

Pleased to have come up with a use for the man Bane collected three books he'd already read from the shelves and then headed up to the second floor.

Naturally he spotted Barsad as soon as he walked into the hallway, a hint of amusement in the other man's eyes and face as he leaned against the wall beside Blake's door. As he was not accustom to seeing his right hand show emotion Bane's thoughts turned to contemplating why that might be, his mind immediately deciding on the most likely cause.

"Detective Blake?"

"If you're on your way in to visit our prisoner you'll find him inclined to spill blood." When his leader gave him a piercing look of interest Barsad elaborated. "I went to give him his medication and he declined to take it. You said to insure his recovery as quickly as possible, so I made him take it."

Since he'd given orders that no one was to lay a hand on Blake unless the man was attempting to escape Bane assumed that aside from a bruised ego the detective hadn't been harmed in the no doubt very brief scuffle. Blake would have been no match for Barsad even in peak condition, ergo it wouldn't have taken much on his lieutenant's part to restrain him. That the man was trying to forgo the drugs didn't surprise him either.

He was also tempted to ask the man what he thought of Blake but didn't, feeling strangely possessive of the detective. He didn't want Barsad showing any interest in Blake.

"I'll tell him not to fight you next time."

Barsad considered pointing out that that would be a waste of breath, and then decided not to comment. At least not until he had a better handle on just why the other man was keeping the detective in the first place. So instead he just nodded his head and then took his leave, a little sorry he couldn't be a fly on the wall.

Bane felt the extreme death glare as soon as he stepped into the detective's room, taken aback completely when it ended abruptly as Blake gave him a rueful look and apologized for the reception as he'd thought he was Barsad, who he officially hated and hoped would fall down the nearest flight of stairs the next time the son of a bitch encountered some. He, however, was welcome to join him on the bed to watch the movie with him.

Not at all used to being preferred over Barsad, the man was actually liked fairly well among their men, Bane cautiously made his way over to his spot on the bed, setting the books down on the bed covers. Blake wasn't even looking at him now, the man's eyes back to looking across the room where the some sort of car chase was going on on the large television screen.

Apparently he wasn't considered a threat at the moment and he didn't know how to handle being viewed that way.

"You didn't eat your breakfast." The tray was sitting on the floor by the bed.

A scowl immediately crossed Blake's face. "Of course I didn't eat it. No one sane would eat that crap. Barsad was all, 'try the grey stuff, it's delicious'. Fuck that, it was the nastiest thing I've ever put in my mouth. Hate that guy. I don't know what the hell it is but I'll live off bread and water, thank you very much. I ate the toast and apple."

Which wouldn't be enough nutrition wise, but he wouldn't push that for the time being. It would be a simple matter to force the man to take the necessary vitamins and minerals when he took his medication. The man's arm was in a makeshift sling now, a man's former shirt from the looks of it. Barsad had likely used the injury to subdue the detective more quickly. "You need to take your medication."

"And I need to smash a candelabra over your precious Barsad's head, but that's not going to happen without a fight either. Now shush, my favorite line in the movie's about to come up. You can yell and aggravate me to your Grinch heart's content after that."

Mouth dropping open in shock behind his mask Bane couldn't remember being told to shush like he was a child since he'd been one. And that had been Talia's mother warning him not to remind the other inmates of his presence by calling attention to himself. Like them he'd been kept away from the general populace in the beginning, the knowledge that that would end once he turned eighteen hanging over their heads. She'd wanted him to be safe as long as possible, knowing there'd be nothing she could do once the time came for him to be thrown to the wolves.

Not knowing what else to do Bane looked towards the screen, watching two men hauling around a bleeding Asian man and then another man, who sort of resembled Blake in coloring and build, walked away and attempted to shoot at some men who were obviously circling the perimeter of the warehouse they were in. Then another man came up beside the one who looked a little like Blake and showed him a weapon that was far more suited for the task.

Making a humming sound of pleasure Blake allowed himself a happy little grin before grabbing the remote and pausing it, turning his attention back to his uninvited guest now. "So what fun things are we fighting about today?"

"Why is that your favorite line?"

"Because it's Tom Hardy sounding all sexy and British."

When Bane just looked at him Blake couldn't help but grin. "What? He is. Hell, he's numero uno on my list of men I'd give up years of my life for a night with. If he were gay and didn't have a family and all that I mean. He doesn't look his best in this movie, especially with the whole badly dressed most of the time thing, but if you'd seen him in 'Warrior' you'd totally get the appeal. If you were a girl or gay."

Bane didn't mince words as he told Blake exactly how stupid he thought giving up years of your life for a night of sex was in very fancy, big words.

Impressed by the man's vocabulary, and more than a little amused by the almost prim tone of it, Blake couldn't help but push the envelope a little more. "Then I guess I shouldn't tell you what I'd be willing to do for just a blow job from Hardy. I've got a serious hard on for that man's mouth."

If there were crickets in the room you'd have been able to hear them chirp.

"Too much info apparently. So again, what did you want to talk about?"

Bane couldn't remember what he'd planned to talk to the man about, instead saying what he was now thinking. "I'm surprised that someone so obsessed with his physical desires would go so long without a sexual partner. Why is that?"

"Whay-what? How the hell would you know how long it's been since I got laid?" Color flushing over his cheeks Blake couldn't begin to figure out how the man would know such a personal thing about him. And okay, it really was embarrassing how long he'd gone without sex.

"I looked closely at those of Gotham who might cause me problems."

Blake beamed. There was no other word for it. The look on the young detective's face said plainly that Bane had given him a great gift. That hadn't been Bane's intention, but to be looked at that way made his chest tightening in a strangely appealing way.

"You thought I was someone to worry about? To look into my background that deeply…thank you."

He thought about pointing out he hadn't meant to compliment the man, but let that go. "You didn't answer my question."

Blinking, it took Blake a moment or two to stop basking in the man's accidental compliment and remember what the question was. And while he had no idea why his sex life would interest the man Blake shrugged that off and gave a sort of answer. "I try not to be a stereotype, so I don't get nearly as much sex as I would like. I'm a workaholic too, so most of the time that doesn't bother me." A slight quirking of the lips. "But as I'm currently lying around in bed with nothing better to do…you get the idea."

"What do you mean, a stereotype?"

"Since you looked into my past you know what my childhood was like, what I come from, right?" When the other man nodded Blake nodded back. "Kids like us, we're the ones the teachers suspect when money goes missing, and shopkeepers follow us around the store to try and catch us shoplifting. People expect foster kids to be violent and promiscuous, to be screw-ups, basically. So I never smoked a cigarette in my life, I don't drink or gamble because that's what got my old man killed…and I don't do one night stands or the sex buddy thing. Relationships only, and I suck at making those work. Mostly because I'm always working."

"Given the amount of crime suffered in Gotham I can see how that would be so."

"Yeah, and then you had to go and make it twenty times worse."

Bane's voice broke no argument. "It will be cleansed when we are done."

"If you say so. I won't be alive to see it after all, now will I?" Blake's voice was just as certain. "I doubt I'm pure enough for this world you want to create. Neither of us is."

It was no surprise that he wasn't considered good enough for the world he would create for his Talia, Bane had no illusions about what he was. He'd been called a monster, a beast more times than he could count. The amount of blood on his hands, he couldn't begin to guess at the amount and the lives lost. There was nothing pure or good about him save for Talia. That he had saved her and would purged Gotham of its evils for her were the only gift he would ever give the world.

He knew that, just as he knew a great deal about the man before him. And what he knew suggested nothing evil, nothing about Blake that made him undeserving of life.

"Why are you not worthy of life?"

"I don't think that…I believe I have as much right to live as anyone. But if you want to make the world pure you're going to have to kill everybody. Nobody's pure, Bane, they can't be. Anyone who says differently is lying…or Mother Theresa, but even she had to have messed up at some point. If you want to try to prove me wrong…be my guest."

His fingers moving to tap Bane belated remembered the books when his fingertips hit one of the covers. Remembering now why he'd come, and that he wouldn't be able to talk to Blake about them if he beat the man half to death, Bane took a cleansing breath and then picked up the pile and set them closer to Blake.

"Do you know these books?"

Gently pushing them apart so that he could see the titles Blake slowly nodded. "We read 'Watership Down' in high school. I've heard of the other two but never read them, why?"

"You will read them and then we will discuss them."

A very long silence and then….

"Wait…we're going to be book buddies?!"


	4. He Was Rude

Disclaimer: As always we'll own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in.

He Was Rude

When Bane informed him that he didn't know what he meant by 'book buddies', Blake explained the concept to him. "Well when you're in elementary school classes would sometimes pair the older kids up with the younger ones and they'd have the older ones read to the younger ones or the younger ones practice their reading by having them read to the older ones who would help them when needed."

Understanding had Bane's eyes going ice cold, the larger man shifting his bulk aggressively as his very presence pinned Blake in place.

Eyes widening in reaction, his muscles clench painfully in agitation and readiness to flee, Blake thought over what he'd said, knowing that if he didn't clue into what line he'd crossed he was very likely a dead or very maimed man. He'd touched one of Bane's landmines and the criminal genius was-OH!

"I'm not saying you're stupid or need me to read to you." Talk fast, Blake or you might never talk on this plain of existence again, the detective told himself. "Book buddies was just what popped into my head. Book club would have been the better choice…wouldn't it? You want me to read books you've already read and discuss them. Like about their plot or characters or themes. Right?"

He was used to people judging him as some big, dumb beast. A mindless weapon to be used, feared, and avoided as much as possible. People might not be stupid enough to say so to his face unless he was about to kill them anyway, but he'd seen it in plenty of eyes when they watched him. And he'd certainly heard it unspoken in the voices of those who thought themselves so much better than him, Talia's father's voice and so many others. So he was, in a way, used to it even as it filled him with terrible rage every time because he hated, hated to be thought as less than human. Perhaps he was a monster, but he at least a human one. The people that had casted him into the pit had sentenced him to be less than human and he'd done his damndest to learn to prove them wrong over the years. To know in his bones that despite all that they'd destroyed in his mind and body, they hadn't taken his ability to think. To better himself, even if he was the only one who knew it.

He could and would tolerate the misconception about his intelligence when need be, but he didn't need to keep Blake alive unless he wanted to.

"Bane?"

Getting himself back under control Bane simply stated that yes, book club would be more accurate a term.

Allowing himself a small sigh of relief Blake made a mental note to be very, very careful how he disagreed with Bane in the future. Calling the man's intelligence into question was probably allowed, calling him stupid would get him killed.

Uncomfortable silence followed, Bane still trying to decide whether Blake saw him as stupid and Blake trying to figure out whether he could use the other man's sensitive about his intelligence to his advantage. It was Bane who broke the silence first, asking Blake what he'd thought of 'Watership Down'.

"You expect me to clearly remember a book I read in grade ten? I mean sure I do remember some of it, but I tried to block most of it out after our sadistically twisted teacher made us watch the movie based on it." Blake shuddered just thinking about what he did remember. "Blood everywhere, rabbits mauling each other, crazy eyed…children's movie my ass. That movie was so wrong on so many levels…even you would probably be grossed out by it."

"They trained and killed rabbits to reenact the novel?"

"No, it was animated, which made it that much worse because unless it's Japanese, you really don't expect that sort of crap from an animated movie. I was a Disney kid for fuck sakes. I didn't see the bloodshed coming." And not wanting to discuss that movie, having nightmares about it at his present age would just be embarrassing, Blake turned the conversation back to the novel itself. "So you'd like the book because of the politics behind it, right? How each of the warrens they visited could be said to symbolize a political dogma? Or are you just a fan of that psycho crazy rabbit that took fascism to a fur flying level?"

Well aware of why he could be compared to General Woundworth, it wasn't an entirely unfair comparison, Bane asked instead which of the rabbits Blake would compare himself to.

Since he only remembered the main characters that left Blake with very few choices, so he suggested Hazel or the rabbit's younger brother Fiver.

"Hazel suits you more."

"Thanks." And it had to be said. "You realize that Hazel kicked Crazy Rabbit's ass, right?"

Bane shook his head. "It was the dog that is presumed to have killed the General."

"Didn't Hazel and the others lure said dog into the area or something…I remember the dog in the movie…and really wish I didn't."

The man was a cop, one who had worked homicides and grown up in an area of Gotham that had been rampant with crime and death even before he'd come to the city. Yet he was this disturbed by a film? He didn't understand and said so.

"Go on Youtube and watch it." Was Blake's faintly miffed response to that jab. "While you do that I'll reread the book and we can talk about it more after I refresh my memory. Then you'll see why it's so wrong."

Bane considered this and then nodded. "I will watch it and you will read. When I return we will discuss the film and the chapters you have read in that time."

"Fine, though the discussing the movie really isn't necessary, just saying."

)

Coming up behind Bane, knowing that the other man would have been aware of him even before he'd entered the room, Barsad glanced in the direction of the laptop screen, wondering what the man would be watching on it since his boss wasn't the movie watching type usually. And what was playing out on the machine had even his mercenary eyes widening ever so slightly as he took in the depiction of what apparently happened when cartoon rabbits went shit house crazy. It was not a pleasant sight.

"Why are you watching that?"

"Detective Blake informed me of its existence and content. I was curious as to why he found it disturbing."

Okay, he was with the cop on this one. That it was a cartoon just made it that much nastier somehow. And how the two had got on the topic of homicidal rabbits wasn't something he probably wanted to know either. So instead Barsad stayed silent and continued to watch the mayhem on the screen, wondering why anyone would watch it normally.

"The men?" He'd asked Barsad to keep an eye on the morale of the men who served with them, knowing that they would handle the standstill better than the common criminal, but would still hate being penned in as well. They might rule Gotham at the moment, but they could no more leave it then the citizens for the time being.

"You taking and keeping Blake has actually alleviated some of the tension, the number of fights has decreased. They're all too busy trying to figure out your motives and laying bets to cause problems."

"What's the prevalent theory?"

Barsad didn't mince words. "That you've taken him as your whore. That's why they're so interested. You've never done so before." And it had to be said. "If you let them near him, there are those that would want to investigate for themselves why he's so special."

Understanding what the man was saying, hadn't he thought for himself that Blake would not survive long in The Pit, Bane ordered Barsad to insure that those guarding the mansion they were residing in were the sort who would have no interest in putting their hands on the detective sexually. He might not want Blake in that way, but he would not allow someone to be raped in his vicinity. His men knew that, but it wouldn't hurt to remind them either.

"Understood." It went without saying that Blake being blanketed by Bane's personal protection would only fan the fires, but since he didn't see the cop leaving their company alive Barsad didn't suppose it really mattered.

Though in all honesty he was as curious as the other men, what role Blake was going to play in their lives. He didn't believe their leader was interested in the man sexually, Bane had never, in all the years they'd known each other, shown any interest in any type of sex with anyone. Whether that was how the man had been born or a conscious/unconscious decision he didn't know and had never asked. It was none of his business, or Blake's as he'd made clear when the other man had asked him about it. Which was understandable of course, the man had to be wondering what Bane wanted with him after all, but he'd simply ignored the question and Blake had dropped it.

But he was curious if there was more to Blake's question than met the eye, Barsad admitted to himself. Because he had read the reports on Blake to try and figure out Bane's interest and so he knew that the detective was a homosexual with a preference for large, well-built men. Would the detective attempt to seduce Bane, to earn his freedom that way? What would Bane do? Because while that avenue had never worked for anyone before, there was something about this man that utterly fascinated Bane.

There would be hell to pay if his boss's interest in Blake only grew with time instead of decreasing. Talia preferred Bane to be under her spell and hers alone. If she thought Blake was a threat to the hold she had over her 'friend' she was more than capable of killing the detective herself.

She could be as ugly on the inside as she was beautiful on the outside, a rose with the deadliest of thorns. She was the center of Bane's world currently, and would do anything, absolutely anything to keep it that way.

If Blake was Bane's pet, then Bane was Talia's whether he knew it or not.

)

As previously stated it had been years since he'd read 'Watership Down', much less the time to just lie around in bed with a book and read for the sake of reading. He'd forgotten how enjoyable it could be. He'd have to remember to ask Bane if he'd read the Harry Potter books when the other man paid him another visit, Blake thought absently as he turned to the next page. He remembered those works a lot better and if Bane had watched those movies, which admittedly was doubtful, then maybe they could spend a few days ranting about how horrible the sixth movie was and the questionable changes made throughout the film franchise. That could actually be fun.

And he was sick of reading about rabbits, Blake acknowledged as he marked his place and then set the book aside, rubbing his tired eyes as though that could somehow relieved their fatigue. He'd taken his medication a half an hour ago, the pain and his experience earlier keeping him from refusing Barsad again. But he would when he was feeling up to it, by God, and somehow, someday, he was going to pay that son of a bitch back for force feeding him those pills even if it was one of the last things he ever did on this earth.

Saving Gotham and finding Bruce were more important, yes, but paying mercenary back for earlier was currently high on his list of things to do.

Hearing the door open, Bane didn't get the concept of knocking, Blake watched the hulking figure come inside and walk over to take the spot on the bed the other man seemed to favor. It was disconcerting that he was starting to think of that spot as Bane's. "Enjoy the movie?"

"No."

"Good, maybe there's hope for you yet." Smiling a little Blake held up the book he'd discarded at his side. "I'm a little over halfway done."

"My men think I keep you to be my whore. What do you think about that?"

The question had come completely out of left field, blindsiding him, so Blake answered automatically without thinking to censor himself. "That they're idiots. I'd be a corpse right now if that were the case."

His detective was blunt, he'd give the man that. "Why do you think I'd kill you?"

Blake snorted. "Does the term massive blood loss mean anything to you?"

"You assume I'd tear you open?" Bane concluded, not sure whether to be insulted by that assumption or not. On the one hand he was aware men generally liked being told their penises were larger than normal, but he wasn't flattered and disliked the idea that the other man thought he would kill him in such a way.

"I think that would be a given." The detective agreed, not bothering to censor himself now. "Even if I was willing that mask pretty much guarantees little to no foreplay, and sex doesn't interest you much if at all, so you probably wouldn't want to waste much time on prep either. Ergo, as I am not a girl, I'd be seriously fucked and not in a good way."

Okay…he wasn't sure why, but this suggestion that he'd be a complete failure if he were to attempt to engage Blake sexually annoyed him. It was probably because the man was suggesting he couldn't control himself, Bane decided, rationalizing his thoughts. He prided himself on having complete control of it now.

"So you don't care what they think of you?"

Figuring that Bane was referring to the question that had started their present situation Blake shrugged it off. "Why should I care what they think? It's probably safer for me that they think that, because then they'd see me as yours. Until I'm back on my feet my safety is mostly in your hands." It went without saying that he'd bite the hand currently feeding him as soon as he was up to it.

"And your comrades, should they hear the rumors?"

No quick answer followed that question, Blake truly considering his response this time. "I don't like the idea of them thinking I'm being sexually abused, especially since some of them would blame themselves for my capture, but they'd know I'm alive, which is important too."

Wary of where this was going too Blake asked a question of his own this time. "Is that what you're telling everyone? That that's why you're keeping me. Why?"

"I have no need to explain my behavior." To anyone but Talia and she thought Blake was simply his pet.

"It can be good to be boss." Blake acknowledged, though he couldn't help but wish he could see the look on Bane's men's faces if they knew he and Bane were a book club of two. "Does it insult you that they think that's your interest in me? It would piss the hell out of me."

"You aren't unattractive."

"Gee, thanks, I've always wanted to be told I'm not unattractive." Sarcasm was heaped on every syllable, Blake's displeasure plain. "And I meant, aren't you insulted that they're basically suggesting that the only way you can get laid is by forcing someone? I mean even if they believed I was willing, I'd still be doing it under duress. Doesn't that piss you off?"

"All that matters is that they obey me without question. The rest is irrelevant."

"There's serious not a single person in this world who's opinion of you matters?" Blake couldn't imagine what that was like. He was an orphan and kept bonds with the people around him casual, but even he had a few people who he would hate to disappoint.

When Bane informed him that that didn't matter Blake perked up a little, taking that to mean that maybe there was someone. Of course someone Bane liked and admired was probably as bad as the man himself and therefore wasn't going to magically appear in Gotham to take the big hulk to task either.

Deciding that a change in topic was called for Bane complimented the man on having the sense to eat all his dinner and not fight Barsad about the medication this time.

An immediate scowl was Blake's reaction. "Because it wasn't the nasty grey stuff this time, and I'll refuse the medicine when I'm up to beating the shit out of your precious Barsad."

Bane blinked in surprise. "He is not precious to me."

"You value him, which is more than the rest of your men can say. They're cannon fodder to you."

"Says the man whose colleagues left him to die or be tortured by me."

"It was their job to protect Gordon." He didn't blame them for leaving him. "I'm replaceable, he's not."

As far as he was concerned Blake was worth a hundred Gordons. "That he's convinced you of that is one more crime on his head."

"One, who the hell are you to judge anyone? And two, he didn't put that idea in my head, it's just common sense. If Gordon had been able to get me out of there he would have, that's the sort of man he is. The sort of cop he is. And had I died I'd have been fine with that, knowing he'd live on to fuck up your plans to his dying breath."

"He branded your Batman a criminal." Bane pointed out, disliking where this was going and wanting to make the other man realize how wrong he was to have such faith in the city's commissioner. In the Batman. The man before him should care more about taking care of himself than a city that would let him die for it without offering him the same protection and sacrifice.

"Batman chose to bear that stain for the city. I might not agree with what he and Gordon did…hell, I don't agree with what they did. But I can understand it." Blake's eyes drilled into Bane's. "I can't understand what you're doing, not even a little. So I'll stick with thinking I'm a lot smarter than your men, when it comes to my taste in men and who I'd die for."


	5. When Somebody Bends

When Somebody Bends

"So explain it to me." Blake demanded once Bane had gotten done telling him that he was an idiot to idolize who and what he did. "Tell me how what you're doing is ultimately going to save Gotham and make the world a better place. Only this time, no big words are allowed or flowery speech of any kind. Lay it out for me, bare facts, so that if I actually was as stupid as you seem to think I am I would still be able to follow you and be convinced that I should agree even if you weren't threatening to kill me."

"I'm not threatening to kill you…at the moment."

Blake just rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to make a point here and you're missing it, Big Guy."

Blinking in surprise at what sounded close to a nickname, Bane schooled his features and demanded that the other man just make his point.

"My point is that anyone who's ever written a paper or done an exam for school knows the value of being able to bullshit your work. That, FYI, is when you use big words and write until your hand's ready to fall off because you're hoping that either the length will confuse your teacher into giving you a good mark, or that eventually, if you write long enough, you'll come close to giving said teacher the info they're looking for. Your speeches, Bane, are eloquent, articulate, intelligent…but people have been making bad choices seem like good ones since Eve talked Adam into tasting that damn apple. And if you were sending your men out on a mission you wouldn't take the time to wax poetically about their bravery and what their sacrifice will mean and blah, blah, blah. You'd tell them what they needed to know and that would be that. So tell me what I need to know to understand."

He understood what Blake was saying, knew the man's observations to be true, but he…he didn't know how to break it down so that Blake could understand. Blake was so against what he was doing that short of torture or brainwashing this was not a man who could be made to see reason.

Which begged the question…if he couldn't get through to Blake, if his argument wasn't strong enough…

Sensing rather than seeing the thoughts whirling around the man's head Blake wasn't really surprised when Bane got a look in his eye that said the man had talked himself into becoming determined to convert him.

"You would agree that Gotham is a breeding ground for violence, death, and perversion?"

"I'd say ten years ago that was true. And yes, we still had problems before you came, but we WERE doing better." He couldn't debate if he wasn't truthful, especially since he knew Bane would pounce if he tried to stretch the truth.

"Your police and politicians used lies and manipulations to make those changes, their deceit bound to be discovered and cause the city to revert to its earlier madness."

Blake nodded. "When the Dent Act was revealed for what it was a lot of people would have gotten out of jail regardless of whether they deserved to be free or not. And yeah, they probably would have wanted vengeance on the city for screwing them over."

Wary about how accommodating the detective was being, Bane continued by pointing out that when such rot and infestation was prevalent and in control the only choice was to cut out that which could not be saved to save what could be.

Blake agreed that that was true to a point. "But my question to you then would be…who decides what deserves to be destroyed and what doesn't? And if it's you and your people…what gives you the right to think you can stand in judgement of anyone? You're a murderer, a mercenary who's visited untold horror and death upon the innocent as well as the dark and evil. Those bombs you set off under the stadium…they didn't chose who they killed…they just killed." Pause. "Do you suppose, O'man, that when you judge those who do such things and yet do them yourself, you will escape the judgement of God?"

"Romans 1:3." Bane acknowledged. "And religion is opium to the masses, Detective."

"Karl Marx." Blake returned, having to think for a moment before responding in turn. "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

Bane paused, this sentiment one used by many and he wanted to get it right. "George Santaya. Why that quote?"

"Because history is full of people who thought they had the right to play God and everyone suffered for it." Was Blake's blunt reply. "And while some of them were evil sons of bitches, there were plenty who probably thought they were right and really were only trying to make the world a better place. See that's why, as flawed as it is, a democracy is always the best way to go. Because even if they take so much longer to come to decisions…they take so long because it's a group of people, all with the right to speak, to give their opinions and force others to see things through the eyes of another. And yes they make the wrong choice sometimes, you don't even want to get me started there, but they have to answer to their voters in the end. To the people they're supposed to be helping. And Bane…we sure as hell didn't ask you to come and save us from ourselves. Sink or swim…that should have been on us, our choice and burden to bear."

Rising from his seat on the side of the bed, Bane glared down at the man who watched him so knowingly. "I will prove you wrong."

"Perhaps. But ask yourself this, Bane. If you were wrong, who among the people you hang out would tell you? Aside from mine, what voices had you heard speak the truth and not what they think you want to hear?"

That…was not something he could argue against. There was only Talia and she…his words were hers.

"I know others who think as I do." The League had and still believed in the ideology of Ra's al Ghul. "Why should I listen to you instead of them?"

"Because a man who leads has to listen as well as he speaks."

Giving Blake his back Bane headed out of the room, informing the detective that they were done for the night over his shoulder.

Wisely Blake didn't argue.

)

When they came into his room shortly before breakfast Blake immediately assumed that he had pushed Bane too far the night before. But the criminal mastermind's absence told a different story, especially when Barsad came running into the room to demand to know what the hell was going on while the detective was fighting the men attempting to attach restraints to his arms and legs. One of the men who'd been standing off to the side walked over to speak to the mercenary, the two too far away for Blake to catch what was being said and he was a little busy fighting a losing battle anyway. By the time Barsad was done his little powwow Blake was chained to his bed and the machines the other men had wheeled in were being brought closer to the bed.

"Barsad? What the fuck? What's…where's Bane?"

The mercenary he'd wished to hell countless times since meeting him met his gaze for a moment and then turned to leave the room, pulling out his cellphone as he did so.

When cold hands touched his shoulder and chest Blake turned his attention to the man touching him, head butting the son of a bitch which hurt, but hurt the other guy more from the amount of blood that was now spurting out of the perv's nose. "Keep your fucking hands off me!"

One of Bane's men moved in and backhanded him, but Blake just kept glaring and spat in the man's direction.

"That's enough violence." The oldest man in the room announced, having hung back to fiddle with the machines. He looked to be about sixty and had the build and pale complexion that suggested he was not someone who did anything physical or spent much time outdoors. "Get Klingler out of the room and some medical attention. We can manage without him."

Blake recognized the accent as being French, though the man's English was perfect. He wasn't surprised when the man introduced himself as Dr. D'Arque like they were meeting for the first time at some social function, and call him crazy, Blake thought as he did his best not to betray how much his arm and cheek throbbed with pain, but he didn't think this doctor was the type who'd taken the Hippocratic Oath to heart.

"What are you going to do to me?"

The old man watched him with eyes that reminded Blake of a shark's, so dark and devoid of emotion. "Well that will depend on you, Detective Blake. Aside from your recent injury I am told you are in excellent physical shape. This is good, for you. As to what we are going to do…well we are going to do a little experiment." The Frenchman motioned towards a tray that displayed three very large syringes holding liquids of different colors. "We will be injecting you with those, one after another, and we will see if you live or not. If you do, you will be greatly rewarded. If you don't…well then it will be back to the drawing board for me once again. Venom, unfortunately, is not an easy power to harness."

"Venom?"

"The drug that is partially responsible for the physical power Bane wields." The doctor informed him conversationally while his assistants hooked the machines up to Blake in order to monitor his vitals during the procedure. "The original formula has some very unfortunate side effects, you see, and I am being paid most handsomely to fix those little problems for the people I work for. What you are about to be given has aspects of the Venom formula, but is less extreme and hopefully…more forgiving to those who take it."

"And if I don't want to be your fucking lab rat. Dr. Death?"

Blake had wanted to see some emotion in the man's eyes, some sign of humanity, but he took that thought back when the man smiled and informed him that amusingly enough, this was not the first time he'd been called that.

And no, Blake had absolutely no say in what they were about to do.

)

When his ride pulled up to the house Bane was out of the armored all-terrain before it had completely stopped, taking the stairs leading up to the door as quickly as possible. One of his men was there to open it for him but he didn't even really notice, his mind solely focused on getting to Blake as quickly as possible to see what damage had been done. That no screams of agony had greeted his ears upon his entrance chilled him to the bone, the silence suggesting that the detective was no longer alive to let the world know the inhumanity Venom visited on those unfortunate enough to be exposed to it.

But Barsad had said that what the doctor had given Blake was a variation on the original formula, and that he had only been given one of three injections before his lieutenant had stepped in and put a stop to it as ordered. Thank the powers that be that Barsad had had the sense to call him and confirm with him that he was to allow the experimentation to continue.

In the back of his mind was the fact that his was the first time he'd ever countered one of Talia's orders, but in this case she had crossed a line that he…he hurt in ways he couldn't put into words. Venom. She had taken the formula and given it to scientists to try and reproduce. Talia knew what it had done to him, the agony he'd gone through as one of the first test subjects and the consequent horrors that had resulted from his determination to wean himself off the stuff before it killed him. Even though he'd been off it for nearly four years now he still needed his mask to deliver morphine, the pain coming and going as it pleased, reminding him of what it felt like to have the muscles and bones in your body try to expand in a skin that wasn't doing the same fast enough.

He'd known the League had the formula, Talia's father had had people study it to try and find some way to help him get off it without going insane from the pain or destroying his body. Or at least that's what he'd been told. Apparently he'd been lied to.

And remembering those years when he'd still been on Venom Bane knew that he would kill Blake before he would let the man suffer that way. He would do the man that courtesy, regardless of what anyone, even Talia said.

He was at Blake's door before he knew it, so lost in his thoughts he didn't even remember getting there. But now that he was aware Bane had to take a deep breath to calm himself and then opened the door and walking into the room.

It was a jolt to see Barsad sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. Beside his second in command Blake's bare back was visible, the jerks and spasms of muscles indicating life though Blake spoke not a word.

When Barsad slid off the bed Blake made a small sound of distress, Bane refusing to react as his second command softly told the detective that Bane had come. Bane couldn't see or hear any reaction to that statement, but the detective didn't make another attempt to keep Barsad with him.

Barsad said nothing as he crossed the room, keeping his voice just loud enough that Blake would knew they were still there without being able to actually understand what was being said. "The pain's subsided, or I think it has. Enough that he's grinching his teeth and bearing it now instead of screaming." Pause. "I can't give him anything; I don't know what chemicals they pumped into him and I didn't want to harm the doctor without permission. I questioned him on his way out and the effects of the drug aren't likely permanent, and given that he was only given a third of the dose, with no prior exposure, he shouldn't have any long term consequences."

Bane nodded and then ordered the man to leave them.

"Barsad? Thank you."

The two looked in the direction of the bed, Blake's back still to them though it was obvious the man was struggling to control the spasms of his body more. Trying to hide just how weak and in pain he was in front of Bane.

Barsad left without acknowledging the detective's words, shutting the door behind him carefully.

He waited, giving his second in command time to walk further down the hall before he walked over and took Barsad's earlier spot on the bed, not sure why but wanting to reclaim the bed as his and Blake's again.

Turning his attention to what he could see of the other man, Blake obviously hiding his face, Bane noted that since the detective was lying on his formerly injured shoulder the wound had either been fixed by this new version of Venom or the detective was in so much pain that Blake didn't realize that he was adding to his agony.

"Is this…why you wear…the mask? The pain?"

If you got close enough to his mask you could smell the morphine, and he'd gotten in Blake's face a few times already. The man was observant, even when he was being threatened. "Yes."

Silence followed his response and then Blake asked why Bane would do this to himself.

"I was given no more choice than you. It's highly addictive, and afterwards your body shuts down if you don't have it." He didn't know why, but Bane found himself telling the detective that he no longer took the drug, wanting Blake to know that he'd overcome his addiction and dependency years before.

As he watched Blake turned onto his back, tipping his head up a little to meet his gaze. The detective's eyes were red rimmed and swollen, as was the man's bottom lip from being bitten into.

"It's like growing pains now. Only twenty times worse. All my muscles and joints ache."

"You got off easy then."

Blake's lips quirked up in the smallest of smiles before his gaze turned serious. "Barsad wouldn't have stopped them...if you hadn't…thank you too, for saving me from them."

Not knowing what else to do Bane simply inclined his head in acknowledgement, not at all used to being thanked so sincerely. They were enemies, technically, but they were both aware of the fact that it would also be accurate to say that this was the second time he had saved Blake's life in a very short space of time. Of course Blake's life kept being threatened because of Bane indirectly, so the exact weight of the debt owed was hard to quantify.

And watching Blake watch him, their bodies so close together that they were sharing the warmth of the other's presence, Bane didn't know he was going to make the promise before he made it. "I will not allow them to experiment on you."

It made him feel pathetic, but Blake asked anyway. "Promise?"

"When you die it will not be because of Venom. On my word." He belatedly tacked on.

Blake smiled a little bit again. "Sounds good to me."

)

Note: For those who haven't noticed, I thought I'd clue you into the fact that every chapter title is taken from one of the songs, and every chapter features a character, object, phrase or plot point related to the Disney version of 'Beauty and the Beast'. Thus far chapter one was Blake sacrificing himself for Gordon as Belle did for her father, chapter two was 'the west wing conversation', chapter three was 'try the grey stuff, it's delicious' line, and chapter four was Talia being compared to a rose, which in the movie is a symbol of the Beast's curse and which he protects even as it spells his doom.

See if you can guess today's!


	6. I Thought I Saw

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put all my poor victims in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that must be how it remains for obvious reasons.

I Thought I Saw

Waking up with a low groan of pain, Blake stared up at the ceiling and mentally taking stock of his body's complaints for what seemed like the hundredth time since his mind had been able to focus on evaluating instead of simply screaming in pain along with him. It was better, a lot better, he noted, like he really was a teenager again and going through a really bad growth spurt. This kind of pain he could deal with. Work through.

Bane was gone, and it was morning again if the light coming through his windows was anything to go by. He'd spent most of the previous afternoon and into the night talking to his captor, wanting to keep the man beside him as a shield and…God save him, a sort of teddy bear. The man's presence had been soothingly familiar, which just went to show how easy Stockholm syndrome could come up to bite you on the ass as far as he was concerned. But Bane wasn't someone you wanted to mess with and the man had made his feelings concerning Venom quite clear. He wouldn't let anyone use that stuff on him again, and he'd promised him. That he had no idea what Bane's word meant to the criminal was somewhat problematic, but on this point he was willing to believe the man had meant his words.

Throwing aside his covers after his mental evaluation was done Blake forced himself to get up and walk very gingerly towards the bathroom, his bladder demanding he empty it. When that was done he trudged over to the sink to wash his hands, absently glancing up at the mirror to get a look at how bad the damage was there.

"HOLY SHIT!"

Mouth dropping as he automatically turned the water off Blake very slowly moved his body this way and that to give himself different views of his physic, dropping the pajama bottoms he'd been wearing so that he could get the whole picture.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. He had a six pack. And his ass…he had the most perfect, ideal ass he could have ever, in a million years, have asked for.

"And no one to share it with. Figures."

Without warning an image of Bane came to mind, but the detective ignored it easily enough since he was too busy taking in every improved muscle. He'd always been slender, with a high metabolism, so putting serious muscle on would have required a strict diet and a workout regime that would have ate up all his free time. Work and a life came before vanity, so the best body he'd had was in high school when he'd still been doing gymnastics regularly.

Running his hands over his taunt stomach, whistling low under his breath, Blake grinned like an idiot over the change. It went without saying that this new body wasn't worth the agony of Venom, nothing was save protecting the lives of innocents, but while it lasted he was going to enjoy this lone benefit.

His gaze turning towards the shower Blake took a couple steps towards it and then stopped, a considering look coming into his eyes. Someone might hear it running and it would be far better to keep everyone thinking he was still out for the count as long as possible. Especially the unknown someone who had power equal or superior to Bane's, Blake thought with no small amount of hatred. Because someone had given the order that he be exposed to that inhuman drug and it hadn't been Barsad or his master. And with all the mercenary's underlings thinking that he belonged to Bane…who but someone with a great deal of sway would have dared think they could act against him without Bane's permission? There was someone else involved, someone from the League of Shadows perhaps? That psycho Ra's al Ghul's replacement? Maybe Bane wasn't even really in charge, maybe he was just following orders and was hiding the real villain here.

And maybe he just didn't want to believe that the guy he couldn't help but be a little interested in wasn't the criminal mastermind behind the destruction of his city, Blake acknowledged, not about to lie to himself just to feel a little better about it. But either way…he'd been told not to visit the West Wing of the house and right now everyone would be underestimating him and his ability to get around.

Mind made up the detective moved as fast as he could back into the bedroom, knowing where to look as he retrieved clothing from the dresser of whatever teenage boy had occupied the room before him. Layering on clothes, just in case he had the chance to make a run for it, Blake did what he could to prep for the outside elements and then retrieved the lone weapon he'd found in the room. It was a letter opener in the shape of a sword, the unknown teen a fan of 'Game of Thrones' apparently. Not the ideal weapon, but it would work.

Adrenaline pumping now at the thought of freedom Blake couldn't believe how messed up his mind was that he actually felt a little bad for thinking to repay Barsad's help from the day before by running away and thus getting the mercenary in charge of him in a lot of trouble. Bane wasn't known to suffer failure well…what if he killed Barsad over it? Would it be considered an offence punishable by death? Surely not, he was just a distraction for Bane after all.

Bane had also protected him yesterday….dammit! Stupid, completely messed up conscience.

Making a sound of frustration Blake marched over to the nearby desk, borrowed a piece of stationary, and left a quick note telling Barsad he was sorry for the trouble the man would get in for letting him escape if by some miracle he managed to get out without getting a bullet in the head. That was the best he could do where Barsad was concerned. And as for Bane, well he'd thanked him already and he really didn't owe the man for yesterday because it would never have happened if the damn mercenary had just left him the hell alone and let the other cops retrieve him once the area was clear and…and…

Crud.

Grabbing another piece of stationary Blake quickly wrote down ten really good books he'd enjoyed reading and informed the mercenary that he'd be missing out if he died before reading them.

And calling himself every kind of idiot the detective hurried over to place the two pieces of paper on top of his pillow and then headed for the door, listening carefully and then letting himself out when he heard nothing. No one there, he noted, and adopting as silent a tread as possible began to make his way down the hallway to the main staircase. And arriving there he took in the lay of the land, surprised to see that he recognized the front foyer.

The Parrish estate. He'd come here once to arrest the owner's teenage son for drunk driving. The décor was still hideously expensive and overdone, in his opinion, and that had made it memorable. And it also told him that he was outside the city, dammit. It would be a hell of a long walk back and the chances of getting recaptured before he made it would be high since he wasn't exactly a boy scout. So he'd have to steal a car, that would be his only chance since all the other houses in the area would be abandoned by now and he wasn't up to the trek on foot.

Crap.

Pushing that aside the detective continued on his way, moving as quickly as he dared towards his first target. And moving from room to room he found nothing of interest until he opened the last door on the right, stepping into a room that had obviously been the master suite. The bed was huge and there was only a single blanket on top, one obviously taken from somewhere else given its size. The bed's original covers, a garish red, were in a heap nearby despite the fact that they were obviously pricy. He had to admit that the fact that the bed had drape things, like in the Harry Potter movies was cool. Now they would definitely keep the sun out better than the crappy shades he had at home, but were probably a bitch to clean.

The décor around the bed had been trashed, but that wasn't a loss from the looks of things. It was an obvious playpen with sex as the theme, the size of the bed the only selling point Blake could see besides the drape thingies.

But the size of the bed…was this…where Bane slept at night?

Curiosity and a gut feeling had the detective looking for some sign that Bane did use the bedroom, brows furrowing when he saw something that definitely didn't belong on a bedside table that had been hidden from his sight originally by one of the bed drapes.

"A teddy bear?" A very messed up looking teddy bear, Blake corrected, one that had been repaired by someone who obviously had no idea how to sew. There was also an opening in the bear's back too, one that no one had bothered to stitch up. Yet someone had cared enough to put it under glass, to keep it despite its appearance. And had used…what looked distressingly like human hair to sew an ear back on.

"Call me crazy, but I don't think you belonged to a previous tenant." The Parrishes were all about appearances and even on the slight chance that one of them had kept a stuffed animal from childhood they would have gotten it repaired properly. This teddy bear belonged to someone who hadn't even had access to thread at some point. So as illogical and mindboggling as it was, the most logical conclusion was that this belonged to a current resident of the house. Maybe even Bane if this was indeed the mercenary's lair.

Glancing towards the bed again Blake tapped his fingers against his thigh thoughtfully, a small grin crossing his face as a way to test his theory came to him.

Walking over to the bed he climbed on it and on his hands and knees shuffled over until he reached the lone pillow at the top, pressing his face into it. It was indeed Bane's scent that greeted him, the hint of morphine a dead giveaway. Poor bastard had to wear it even to bed, Blake thought with a shake of his head, unable not to feel pity for the man, especially now that he knew what it was like to be a victim of Venom.

But he wasn't here to play around on Bane's bed, especially since that wouldn't be fun without-yeah, not going there. Time to think about something else.

A slit in the back of the bear, one Bane carried around with him on his travels-could there be something inside it? The remote maybe?

Scrambling off the bed and moving back to the table as quick as a flash, Blake lifted up the glass case and setting it aside was reaching out to turn the bear so that the back was facing him when some animal instinct told him that he wasn't alone just before the outraged snarl reached his ears.

And turning his body to face the storm Blake saw Bane coming towards him like a predator moving in for the kill.

He didn't think or speak, he just moved, Blake running for the terrace doors and throwing one open without glancing behind him. And knowing Bane would be on him in mere seconds Blake took the necessary steps and vaulted over the balcony, not knowing what he was jumping into but praying it was better than whatever Bane would do to him when he caught him.

The snow was deep, thank God, and there was nothing underneath it to hurt him when Blake hit the ground. He'd been trained how to fall properly, and though it knocked the wind out of him and made the aches in his body that much worse the detective got up and started running as soon as he had air in his lungs. And he kept running right up until his foot went through the snow and the ice underneath it.

Yelping in surprise as he stumbled, soaking his two pairs of borrowed pants that much more in the freezing pond water in the process. Getting his leg out of the water Blake stumbled away from it, knowing his only chance now was to get the car garage and steal a car because in his new condition exposure would kill him for sure. Already the wet material was freezing up on him.

But as he rounded the house he saw Bane patiently waiting for him on the steps, watching him without any sign that he was even remotely aware of the wind blowing over the chest covered only in a sleeveless black top. There would be no getting past the man, and he wasn't dumb enough to think he could take Blake despite his body's recent improvements.

So there was nothing to do but keep the man off balance and interested in figuring him out, Blake taking a deep breath for courage before walking over to the man who watched his every move with unnerving focus.

"You can beat the shit out of me after I shower."

And on that note he started up the stairs and headed back into the house, leaving Bane to follow him from behind.

)

Following Blake up the stairs, ridiculously curious as to what the man was up to, Bane remained silent as the cop trudged towards the room he'd been assigned without deviation. He'd expected the detective to fight him or start begging him for mercy; that was what most people did when faced with his wrath. Blake was acting like nothing had happened.

Blake was stripping off his clothes.

Mouthing dropping just a little in shock behind his mask Bane moved on autopilot, eyes widening ever so slightly when the detective removed the last article of clothing, his last pair of pants, and gave him a perfect view of the other man's bare ass before it and the rest of Blake disappeared into the bathroom.

Moments later the sound of water running made it clear the man had been serious about taking a shower before they discussed anything.

Leaning back against the bathroom counter Bane waited patiently, using the time to decide how he should punish the other man. Blake hadn't harmed Osito, he'd have killed him if that were the case already. He'd told the detective not to go near that area, but in retrospect that had probably guaranteed that the man would do precisely that. Logically he should punish Blake swiftly and brutally for disobeying him, Bane knew, but that defeated the purpose of why he'd decided to keep the detective in the first place. And hadn't Blake suffered plenty already, because of the Venom?

And why exactly couldn't he stop glancing in the direction of the shower and the body he could see through the foggy glass?

That he was still wondering that when Blake stepped out of the shower and started toweling himself off was downright mortifying.

"You think nothing of appearing naked before me?"

"Why should I care? It's not like I interest you sexually." He'd had to share a room with someone in foster care and then the home plenty, and that plus locker rooms had insured that he didn't give a damn if anyone saw him naked. It wasn't like he had anything to be ashamed about, especially now.

That was true, Bane acknowledged. Or at least…he'd never found anyone's naked body…he was only looking to observe the changes brought by the Venom.

Feeling like a puppet, or a servant trailing behind his master, Bane once again found himself following Blake out of a room and into the bedroom, the other man retrieving fresh clothes to put on before coming over to stand in front of him, looking him dead in the eye with that stubborn chin of his out as he asked what his punishment was for disobeying him.

"I haven't decided."

His answer had obviously caught Blake off guard, the man giving him a suspicious look that suggested the detective thought he was being manipulated somehow.

Silence followed as they stared at each other, the quiet broken when Blake asked if the teddy bear in the other room was his.

"Why?"

"Because if it is I can fix it. Or at least sew it up so that it won't come apart on you anytime soon. I took home economics in high school, I knew I'd have to cook and do that other stuff for myself once I turned eighteen. It won't be pretty, but I can…if you want. In exchange for a lesser punishment."

He was well aware of how ragged Osito was getting no matter how hard he tried to keep his old friend in one piece. His hands were too big to wield a needle properly, and asking anyone else to do it would be admitting how much he valued the stuffed animal, thus making him seem weak. No one entered his room or went through his things without his permission, and though Talia might remember the bear from before she would never expect that he'd kept it all this time. To entrust Osito to someone else…he couldn't do it. Not that.

"You could stay close while I fix him. I would never deliberately wreck something like that."

"Something like what?"

"I still have a teddy bear from when I was a kid too. His name is Toto after the dog from 'The Wizard of Oz'. Don't ask me why, I don't remember."

Surprised, he'd never met another grown man who'd admit to having a stuffed animal still in his possession, Bane asked why he'd kept it.

"Because hugging him was the only thing that made life bearable when I was a kid sometimes. He was there when I needed him, so now I take care of him instead. I can help you take care of yours, if you'll let me."

)

Last chapter's reference was Dr. D'Arque, as in Monsieur D'Arque, the man who ran the insane asylum, so kudos to Charlie and ah_sweet_dude for guessing correctly! Today's is Osito as the positive sides of the rose. He symbolizes Bane's hope and the possibility of one day being loved and saved.


	7. And A Bit Alarming

And A Bit Alarming

He believed Blake's words, and Osito's need to be repaired weighed on him, but Bane still couldn't shake the feeling that if he trusted his treasure to the detective something horrible would happen. And it wasn't even that he feared the man would destroy the bear, it was just this knowing in his gut that if he allowed Blake to handle and touch Osito he would be altering the dynamics between them in some undefinable way. But there had to be some way to define it, explain it, the mercenary thought as he looked away from Blake, feeling unable to meet the detective's gaze at the moment. He hated not understanding what it was about Blake that aroused such conflicting and confusing thoughts and emotions in him. And it was only getting worse the more contact they had, like ants under his skin that crawled over nerves and made him want to squirm and rid himself of the infliction.

It was while his eyes sought relief that his gaze happened to land on the bed and note the fact that there were pieces of paper propped up on the pillows.

Curiosity had him walking over, Bane seeing Blake start to move to intercept him out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head he gave Blake a look that made it clear he was to stay where he was, Bane waiting a moment to let the implied threat sink in before allowing his attention to go back to the stationary, pleased when the detective made no move to stop him.

Picking up the papers Bane read both of them, his expression revealing nothing until he was finished. Glancing in the direction of the other man, who was pointedly ignoring him from the looks of it, Bane smiled just a little behind his mask.

"You are an interesting man, Robin John Blake."

"Back at you."

Stuffing the paper s into his pocket Bane studied Blake's embarrassed profile for about a minute and then ordered the younger man to remain in the room as he would be returning shortly. If Blake was not in the room when he returned…he would not like the consequences.

)

Thankfully for all involved Blake was sitting on his bed, waiting, when Bane returned fifteen minutes later with Osito and the sewing kit he'd picked up recently in the hopes of once again trying to repair the teddy bear on his own.

"You will fix him and I will overlook your earlier actions." Bane announced. "If you wreck him I will take it out on you and the food rations your boys' home receives."

His threat obviously pissed Blake off, but the detective accepted both the bear and the kit without complaint. The man's glare was fierce enough to convey his thoughts without words though.

Watching the man select a brown spool of thread, one that would blend in with his bear's fur relatively well, Bane noted that Blake looked surprisingly confident cutting off an appropriate length and then threading it through the needle after knotting the end.

"So the cut in the back looks deliberate…that staying?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Obviously opting to start small Blake made quick work of reattaching the bear's loose eye, asking Bane who had given him the toy once that was done.

"He was cast into The Pit with me. I know not who gifted him to me."

Blake accepted the answer and then went to work on one of Osito's ears before inquiring as to whether or not he was allowed to cut out the human hair that had been used on the stuffed animal since it made the poor guy look like he was a voodoo bear of some sort.

Bane agreed with a hidden smirk, noting that Blake is very good at sewing.

"Mrs. Potts would be delighted you think so. She was my Home EC teacher." He added, when Bane gave him a questioning look. "She was very British, very stern on the outside and a total marshmallow on the inside. Looked a lot like a middle aged Angela Lansbury, actually. Her two favorite things were tea and shaking her head over whatever trouble her son Chip had recently gotten himself into."

Thinking that Chip was a strange name, though his own wasn't much better, Bane turned to another British topic. "I have read the Harry Potter books." The detective had written that book series on the very top of his list in capital letters. Apparently the man was a fan.

"Yeah? Excellent. I'd much rather talk about those than Watership Down, especially if you want to watch those movies too to do a comparison. Except the sixth movie. I refuse to watch that one on principle." Blake made a disgusted sound, having to remind himself to be very careful with what he was doing since very bad things would happen if he accidentally harmed the teddy bear.

"I have not watched the movies."

"That's probably for the best. Only about half of them are true enough to the books and the heart of them to appeal to true fans." And on that note Blake descended into a rant about how at the premiere of the seventh movie he'd actually heard a girl in line state that she couldn't remember how Harry had gotten his scar. Seriously. How could anyone with a remotely working brain not know the answer to that question?!

Both taken aback and amused by the man's passion for the topic, Bane simply sat and let Blake rant on and on about how the movies had mislead audiences, noting that the detective could multitask as every rip on Osito save the one at the back was closed with near military precision.

When he was done Blake handed the bear back over to Bane, belatedly realizing that he'd probably been on a tangent for quite a while seeing as he'd even finished all the fraying points on the toy's body. Color flushing his cheeks and ears he rearranged the items in the sewing kit while apologizing for no doubt boring him with his little rant.

It took Bane a moment to respond, irrationally charmed by the ear blushing. "I did not mind."

Searching for another topic that had nothing to do with the fact that Bane seemed to view him as a fascinating science experiment gone wrong, and inclined to stick with the Harry Potter theme so that he wouldn't have to have another discussion about Watership Down, Blake thought about the other man's interests and asked Bane what he thought of the Ministry Magic. That was another thing he could talk about for a long time, especially given his extreme hatred of Umbridge.

As it turned out, Bane could spend quite a lot of time dissing the Ministry too.

They had fun.

)

It was two days later that Bane got a possible explanation as to what it was about Detective Blake that drew him so strongly, and afterwards the mercenary would think he would have been a lot happier never knowing. The catalyst for the discovery was a discussion of Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore, Blake's love of the Harry Potter series such that he got very passionate when arguing his viewpoint on the novels and characters in them. And it was not wise, Bane learned, to insult Albus Dumbledore around Blake.

"He made mistakes, paid for them, and you of all people don't have the right to call him weak." Blake informed him, his arms crossed and his eyes alight with righteous fury. "Albus's whole life was defined by the people he loved, and there's no way someone like you can understand him because you don't get love. You've probably never loved another person in your life!"

"I have." The words slipped out, but Bane was too caught up in the argument they'd been having for the past hour to worry too much.

A hint of interest came into the detective's eyes. "What kind of love?"

"Family." He finally admitted.

"Okay…so if this person was killed by-nevermind, you can't even put you in Albus's shoes because you've never been in love with someone. You don't understand what that does to you, means to you." Breathing out a frustrated breath Blake just shook his head. "Let's move on to something else-which doesn't involve you bashing Dumbledore or Dobby. Bash Dobby and I will have to try and hurt you."

He had found the Malfoy's former house elf more than a little annoying, but he was willing to forgo mentioning that if it meant their discussion could continue. And how he was curious about something else, anyway. "You are in love with someone?"

"What?"

"Apparently, to understand Dumbledore's character, you must know all types of love. You seem to think you understand him, therefore I am curious about who you love."

Looking faintly embarrassed now, Blake shuffled his feet a little, studying them as he spoke. "Well I haven't found-will likely never find the someone I would want to spend the rest of my life thanks to you-but when I was in high school there was this guy I was pretty gone over."

"Did he return your love?"

"Nah. He was straight, and just saw me as this guy on the track team he hung out with sometimes after meets and practice with the rest of the guys." Blake's lips curved a little now as he went back into his memories, remembering that day so well. "He was a year older than me and was graduating, so I figured I had nothing to lose by telling him- I'd long ago decided that I wasn't going to live a life with regrets. So I asked for a few minutes of his time and told him how I felt, telling him I knew he was straight and didn't expect anything from him. He was sweet about it."

"You still love him?"

Utterly confused as to why Bane would care about his sad love life Blake answered anyway. "I don't pine for him, if that's what you mean. I just…won't ever forget him. First love and all that. Heaven and Hell at the same time."

Now it was Bane's turn to be confused. "Both Heaven and Hell?"

Blake grinned and nodded, thinking Bane hadn't exactly missed out when it came to the trials of high school romance. "The thrill of catching a glimpse of him in the hallway and the pain of seeing him kissing or flirting with someone else. Dreaming about him night and day, planning your lives together and how he'll suddenly realize you're the one for him and confess his undying devotion to you. Then there's the struggling to appear cool and interesting at all times, which usually results in you looking like an idiot somehow because you can't really function when he's looking at you, giving you his attention for a few heart pounding minutes. Then there's working your body to exhaustion to impress, the hours spent in front of a mirror and covertly watching him to the point where you're borderline stalking him." Blake laughed. "And that's all before you factor in sex and how that completely fucks you and your brain up."

"That does not make romantic love sound very appealing, Detective."

"It's not for sissies." Blake agreed. "That's one of the reasons marriages don't seem to last these days. No one wants the work that comes with keeping the love and marriage alive. They're all just too damn lazy, and sure that any day now an APP will appear that will do that for them too."

"You believe you would be different?"

Blake's nod was decisive and without hesitation. "I wouldn't be a perfect husband, that's asking a little too much, but I'd devote as much attention to my partner as I would my work if I loved him. I've seen way too many cop relationships crumble because of the job, so I try not to ever get involved with someone I don't think could handle that and accept that I need to protect people as much as I need air. Which is another reason I've been single for so long." He ruefully added.

"No one in the city of Gotham would be worthy of you." Bane agreed, only realizing how his words could be interpreted after they'd already left his lips.

Mouth dropping a little in shock Blake could feel his face and ears heat up again even though he had absolutely no reason why. It wasn't like Bane had meant…he would never…why had Bane said that?

Both men going silent, unable to think beyond the words still hanging in the air, the two didn't look at the other as the awkwardness of their present situation weighed on them.

And it was while Bane tried to wrap his mind around what he'd said that it slowly dawned on him that he currently felt and behaved in a way that suggested that perhaps-just perhaps-his irrational reactions to the Gotham detective could be the beginnings of…romantic love. He was drawn to the other man as he'd never been drawn to another before. He felt possessive and protective of Blake, not wanting other men near the detective and even countering Talia's orders to protect him. Then there was his persistent attempts to connect with Blake, his willingness to overlook the detective's earlier transgressions and the fear he'd felt at the idea that Blake's exposure to Venom would kill or break his 'pet'.

Without a word Bane got up and clutching Osito against his chest informed Blake that he was leaving for the day.

"Okay. Later." Was Blake's lame response, still very confused about the way their conversation had ended.

Nodding, Bane got the hell out of there, not exactly sure what he was going to do after returning Osito to his room but sure that he absolutely had to get away from Blake until he could think clearly.

)

Blake had justified Bane's compliment by the time lunch time came around, having decided that the mercenary had simply been stating his contempt of the people of Gotham once again. It hadn't been meant as a compliment or a statement of interest, and reading more into it suggested he was losing it in a big way. Then again, Blake reasoned, he had been shot, kidnapped, experimented on, and threatened plenty recently, so technically he was holding up better than a lot of people would in his shoes. And thinking about that had him realizing that he wasn't even really sure how much time had passed since he'd been taken. The television in his room didn't get any channels, you could only play movies on it. The bedside table clock gave time but not date.

We're his captors keeping him unaware on purpose or coincidentally? He'd ask Barsad as soon as the man came with his lunch.

And that's exactly what he did, Barsad informing him that it was the twentieth of December.

"The twentieth? Oh shit!"

Barsad hid his surprise well. "Problem?"

"Yeah, there is most definitely a problem." Ignoring the mercenary completely Blake couldn't believe that it was so close to Christmas. He only had four days, the detective thought as he slid his fingers through his hair in agitation. He had to have Christmas, celebrate it as he'd always done. His mom had been all about Christmas according to his dad, and the man had always gone all out for that one holiday in his wife's memory. Whatever else was going wrong in their lives he'd always known that the one thing his father wouldn't mess up, wouldn't forget or overlook, was Christmas. And even after he'd been placed in foster care and then the boys' home he'd pulled himself out of the dark world he'd so often inhabited in order to celebrate the holiday in their memory. He had never missed a year.

Calm down, calm down, Blake told himself, unaware of just how panicky and agitated he looked at the moment. He might have been kidnapped but Bane hadn't said anything about him being confined to his room now. That meant that he could leave the room and…and given the amount of entertaining and partying the Parrish family did there had to be Christmas stuff somewhere. And okay, a lot of it would probably be expensive crap that he would never use but surely he'd be able to find enough usable stuff to decorate his room.

As for the other important stuff…

"Barsad, am I allowed in the kitchen? And if I am how well stocked is it?"

"You'll eat the lunch I made you."

Since there was no sign of the grey stuff Blake assured him that he would before asking his question again.

"We're well stocked." Barsad admitted, eyes watching Blake cautiously since he didn't know quite what to make of the man's sudden interest and intensity. "This house was far enough out that the looters hadn't gotten to it before we took control and…put it off limits."

"Excellent. And am I confined to my room now?"

"I was not given orders to that effect."

"Even better. Lunch please."

Really confused now Barsad continued to successfully hide that fact and instead handed the tray over to Blake, watching the man dig in with a speed that suggested he wanted to get the meal over with as soon as possible so that he could do something else.

Normally he would have assumed that the man had come up with some sort of plan to escape or cause Bane injury, but he doubted that was the case at the moment. The naive detective had already tried to get away today and had failed epically at it. Blake would plot and plan more for his next attempt, or he would if the detective had any brains in his head. Or could the man be interested in the kitchen because he thought to poison them all? That would be a little creative but also doomed to failure. He personally looked after his leader's food and would take it upon himself to shadow the other man while he was in the kitchen if that's where they were going after lunch.

And it was, Blake announcing that that was where he wanted to go as soon as he was finished eating.

This time Barsad wasn't able to hide his surprise when he was informed why.


	8. I'm Especially Good

I'm Especially Good

Christmas was in the air as Blake moved to 'Rockin Around The Christmas Tree' while he nibbled on one of his gingerbread cookies. Standing off to the side so that he wouldn't be in the way Barasad ate his own cookie, all the while trying to look very stern and foreboding. The mercenary wasn't having a lot of luck with that since apparently he had a thing for gingerbread cookies, but they weren't going to mention that since it was Christmas time and therefore not a time for fighting and Barsad forcing him to stay in his room in retaliation for teasing him.

He'd wondered at first if Barsad and Bane would try to stop him from celebrating Christmas, especially since they were so down on material and capitalism. He wasn't am idiot after all, he knew that the holiday was a commercial one in the eyes of a lot of people, and even saying 'Merry Christmas' could spark controversy with the overly sensitive. It wasn't just an excuse to shop to him though, and he refused to not give proper holiday greetings, so he'd been prepared to fight tooth and nail for his right to celebrate it if Barsad had tried to stop him. But the man had just shrugged once he'd gotten over his surprise at his declaration of intent and didn't seem to think Bane would have a problem with it either.

And since he'd gotten three cookies in the man already Blake figured Barasad had enough sweetness in him to at least hear him out about the tree. "So I was wondering…what would I have to bribe you with for you to let me cut down one of the pine trees outside?"

If he hadn't just finished his third cookie Barsad would have choked on it. "You want to cut down a tree?"

"For Christmas. It has to be a real one, the fake ones don't count. I'll cut it down and carry it in and everything. I just figured…well you probably don't want me handling an axe or chainsaw without your permission."

Gee, you think? "Have you ever even used an axe or chainsaw?"

Blake gave him a confused look. "No. But it's not exactly rocket science, right?"

Barsad took a moment to imagine the carnage, the blood and gore pretty bad even before he'd factored in what Bane would do if he came back to find out that Blake was missing a limb or the majority of his blood supply. And who would the blame fall on, why him of course. "No."

"I'll make you all the gingerbread cookies you want." Blake cajoled before tacking on the barely veiled threat. "And you have no idea how annoying I can be if I really put my mind to it. If you let me get my tree I promise to behave and be on my best behavior until Boxing Day." He had to stay until then if he was going to celebrate Christmas properly after all.

On the one hand he really didn't want to set a precedent, letting Blake think he was that easy to manipulate, but on the other hand Barsad had to admit that he was sort of curious about this whole Christmas obsession the man had. Well that and he wanted to see Bane's reaction to the whole thing when the man came back that night to discover what their hostage had been up to. So sue him, he was only human. There was no reason the man couldn't have a tree, Barsad reasoned, he could see Blake's devotion to this holiday was true and without hidden motive.

"I will have a tree cut down."

Opening his mouth to insist that he could do it, he was actually sort of pumped to cut down his own tree now, Blake closed it just as quickly, reading the look Barsad was giving him correctly. The man was only going to budge so far and apparently thought he couldn't be trusted with power tools. He could understand that.

He was getting his tree and that was what mattered.

"So you've never celebrated Christmas before?"

"No."

"Do you…want to celebrate Christmas with me?"

Picking up another cookie, damn if he wasn't earning them, Barsad shook his head at Blake. "You do realize you're a prisoner here, right? That you won't leave this city alive, and how long you live is for Bane to decide. Using this holiday and what it originally stood for before it was corrupted and mutated into the commercial monster it now is-it will not work. Celebrate if you like, but it will do you no good. You are the enemy, not a friend."

"Okay…Bane's the Grinch and you can be Scrooge. Got it."

Getting the last reference Barsad just barely stopped himself from tossing out a 'Bah Humbug'.

)

Bane didn't know what to make of the fact that there were pine needles on the floor when he entered the house late that night, the scent of them mixed with other smells that made his stomach growl and had him following his nose to the kitchen. The sight of so many cookies, at least four different finds, had his eyebrows rising, especially since there were gaps that suggested that people had been coming in, lifting up the wrap that covered the treats, and helping themselves. And since he couldn't imagine that one of his men had suddenly decided to bake, and in one kind's case ice said cookies, the logical culprit was Blake. Why the detective had done it was the question.

The iced ones were holiday themed, Bane noted as fingers itched to help himself to a couple, so the logical explanation was that the detective thought to use the coming Christian holiday of Christmas in some manner. How the man intended to use it remained to be seen, especially since Barsad would have supervised the baking to make sure no attempt at poisoning occurred.

Forcing himself to leave the treats alone, he could always come back later for some, Bane turned his thoughts to the question of where Barsad was. His right hand was probably guarding Blake given the detective's ill-advised escape attempt that morning and since he'd decided that his earlier hypothesis that he might be developing romantic feelings for Blake was highly flawed and improbable going to see Blake before he turned in for the evening made perfect sense. He'd sleep better knowing he'd faced the man without feeling a thing.

Naturally he noticed that the pine needles trailed up the stairs and in the direction of Blake's room, his curiosity growing with every step he took. To make it absolutely clear that this was his territory and Blake was his captive, and therefore should behave as such, Bane didn't knock, letting himself into the man's room without warning.

The shock of what he saw actually had him stumbling back a couple steps.

He completely missed Barsad's muttering that he wished he had a camera as well as Blake seconding that, the two men staying on the bed with their popcorn as they turned their attention from the movie they'd been watching to Bane instead

Naturally he'd never celebrated the Christian holiday known as Christmas, and he'd never seen decorations such as this outside of books and other forms of media. But it was all here, Bane realized as he slowly turned his head this way and that to take it all in. The small white lights encircling the windows, cut out paper snowflakes bright white against the night dark glass. Long chains of gold and silver garlands, which sort of reminded him of caterpillars, were cheerfully draped over shelves and around a lamp post.

"Is the tree not supposed to be decorated?" It stood proud and straight in one corner, held up by some device that seemed to have been made for that purpose. But there was not a single foreign object on any of the branches and he was a little disappointed, though Bane didn't quite know why.

"It will be tomorrow." Blake informed him. "I had to wait for it to dry before bring it up here thank to all the snow, plus a certain someone insisted on going through every single ornament beforehand to take out all the ones that could conceivably be used as a weapon which took hours." He sent Barsad a dark look as he spoke before turning his attention back to Bane. "You wouldn't believe how little that leaves me to work with. Hence the popcorn chain I'm making."

"More like eating."

"Quiet you. I made double what we needed for a reason."

Finally focusing on the two of them Bane just barely bit back a growl at the sight of Barsad and Blake on the bed together. The fact that they were both fully clothed, on top of the covers with their backs to the headboard and bowls of popcorn in their laps did little to quell the darkness rising up to take him by the throat. He did not like them sitting so close together. He really did not approve of them being on a bed at the same time.

There were no words what he felt over the fact that Blake quite obviously liked Barsad more than him.

Unlike Blake, Barsad had had years to learn all of his leader's tells, able to read him better than anyone, even Talia. She too often saw what she wanted to see. So he knew that Bane was very angry and upset for some reason, something that had happened within the last few moments. Setting aside the bowl of popcorn he slid off the bed and walked over to stand in front of the other man, asking in a low voice as to what was wrong.

"Leave us."

Still confused but not about to question the order Barsad nodded and quickly left the room without so much as glancing in Blake's direction.

Picking up on the definitely non Christmasy atmosphere Blake set his bowl aside as well, moving up so that he was partially standing on his knees. "If you're mad about the decorations and stuff that's all me, not him. He even discovered this letter opener I'd been hiding and he's got it now. And I also promised to be a good little hostage until Boxing Day, which should make you happy."

Walking over to stand beside the bed, deliberately not taking his normal seat, Bane's voice was as cold as ice. "Attempting to seduce my second in command would not be wise."

Blake stared. And stared. And then he laughed.

"Are you serious? Did you take a blow to the head while you were gone? Barsad? Too short, thin, and very straight, thank you very much. Not to mention the facial hair. Dude, you need some serious sleep, ASAP. I'll see you in the morning."

And on that note Blake turned his attention back to the screen with much snickering, restarting the movie.

)

It took Bane almost an hour to realize that not only had he allowed Blake to dismiss him…but he'd ended up obeying the other man's suggestion that he leave without question. Here he was in the room he'd taken as his, dressed for bed and with a book in his lap-and he couldn't remember anything he must have read or tried to read in that hour. All he seemed to remember, could think about, was that HE wanted to string popcorn with Blake. HE wanted to decorate the man's room and the tree and…and HE wanted to be the man beside Blake in his bed.

This had to be dealt with.

Setting aside the book Bane pushed aside his covers and headed out of the room and down the hallway. If Blake was asleep he would just wake the man up, violently if necessary. It was probably going to be necessary, especially since the quicker Blake started looking at him with fear and loathing like any normal person the quickly he could get it through his own thick skull that he was nothing but a monster in the other man's eyes and Blake would never see him as anything else.

Sheer habit had him making little to no sound as he walked, opening Blake's door carefully before stepping in, knowing that the detective was still awake due to the light he'd seen under said door.

"Holy fuck are you ever RIPPED!"

Once again Bane found himself completely and totally blindsided, but this time it was because Blake was currently looking at him the way a man lost in the desert looked at an oasis. He believed the street term would be that he was being eye fucked.

Aware he might be drooling but beyond caring, Blake's eyes couldn't decide exactly what portion of Bane's anatomy to settle on. The man wasn't a wearing a shirt so his chest and massive arms were on display, but the cotton pants the man as wearing were riding decidedly low on Bane's hips and THOSE muscles were hard to miss too. All those muscles, all that tanned skin, all the sexy, sexy scars! Dear God he wanted to scream like a little girl at boy band concert. And okay, better not to focus on the scars, Blake decided, since thinking about how the man had probably gotten a lot of those would totally kill this moment for him. Better to think about the fact that he was looking at an honest to God, no fooling, perfectly formed eight pack. He'd never seen such perfection before in real life and FUCK it was a beautiful thing.

He couldn't help but wonder if Bane would be willing to turn around so that he could see the back too.

Having never been in this situation before Bane didn't quite know what to do, his stomach muscles automatically clenching at the way they were being looked at, which Blake really liked given the way the man's eyes glazed over in a dreamy, far off look.

The way that made him feel had Bane wishing he'd stayed in his room with his nose stuck in a book.

"Blake?" He had to repeat the man's name three times before he responded.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Because you have the most lickable body I've ever seen in my thirty years of life. Which is so unfair on a number of levels, but I'm ignoring them for the moment. What are you doing here?"

Lickable? He was lickable?

How long they stared at each other while trying to process the fact that Blake considered Bane's body utterly lickable neither knew, the moment broken by the sound of orchestra music, the beauty of it drawing his gaze over to the television screen.

"What-what are you watching?"

The fact that Bane had turned to look at the screen, which cut off his perfect view of the man's chest, caused enough blood to flow back up to Blake's head that he actually processed and understood what was being asked. And how he'd been behaving since the other man walked into the room.

Blushing fiercely Blake pointedly looked at the screen too as he answered the question. "It's 'Home Alone 2, Lost in New York'."

Since the classical music was over his interest was negligible, but it was safer to watch the scene than look in Blake's direction. "It is a Christmas movie?"

"A must watch." Blake confirmed, clearing his throat loudly, desperate for a change in topic while he died of embarrassment. "There's actually four of them, but I've never seen more than a few minutes of the last one, it was that bad. Beyond horrible. Anyway the first two were my favorite live action Christmas movies when I was a kid. They sort of lost their shine once I was old enough to understand just how much pain Marv and Harry would actually be in at times, but I still love them."

Quiet reigned for a while, and then Bane asked what the boy was doing to the house he appeared to have broken into.

"He's booby-trapping it. See he knows these two guys intend to rob a toy store of all its money on Christmas Eve, and he intends to lure them to the house, which is owned by family of his by the way, and put them through hell before siccing the police on them."

"Why does he not inform the police ahead of time?"

"Because then the two idiots wouldn't be hurt in ways that are entertaining to those who can't understand the kind of damage being inflicted on them."

Needing something more than a movie he'd seen a million times to take his mind off things, Blake turned his attention back to the popcorn chain he'd been working on. He needed a lot of them since Barsad had taken most of the ornaments away from him, which he'd only forgiven the man for because he really had gotten him an awesome tree. He didn't know how the hell he was going to decorate it given his limited options, but it was biggest, most perfectly formed-shit.

Bad line of thought-especially since he really wanted to know if Bane was proportionate everywhere.

It would be totally lame to ask Bane to never again appear before him without a shirt on, Blake told himself, even as he couldn't help but steal looks out of the corner of his eye when he really hoped Bane wasn't noticing.

No such luck

"You keep looking at me, Detective Blake."

"Well go get a friggin shirt on if you don't want me to look!"

A long pause. "I still fail to comprehend why you're staring."

"What part of needing a shirt didn't you get?" Blake demanded to know, forcing himself to look over to meet Bane's eyes. "And you can quit looking so worried too, FYI. Unless you say 'If you like it all that much, it's yours' I won't jump you. Probably. If you keep a shirt on." He couldn't stifle his very loud sound of frustration or the fact that he was seriously blushing again. "Dammit. You're torturing me deliberately now, aren't you?"

"I'm…torturing you?"

In the back of his mind all Blake could hear was that chihuahua from 'Oliver in Company' saying 'If this is torture, chain me to the wall'.

Dammit.


	9. It Disturbs Me

It Disturbs Me

Watching Blake watch the television screen, the detective now successfully managing not to look at him, Bane's brain finally kicked in enough for his rational side to kick in. The other man had to be up to something to make such inflammatory, untrue statements and he needed to concentrate on figuring out the man's motive least Blake be successful in his endeavor. It was possible that Blake merely wished to get rid of him, thinking to make him so uncomfortable that he left in order to avoid further discussion. Seeing him without a shirt on could not be literal torture and he was fairly certain that the detective was intelligent enough to know that he wasn't stupid enough to think that that could be construed that way. Blake would know he was very familiar with torture thanks to The Pit. It was also reasonable to assume that this wasn't the other man's attempt to use seduction as a way of gaining his favor. For one think Blake had made his feelings about his sexual abilities very clear, and for another he'd made his own lack of interest in fornication clear.

He thought about it. And thought about it. And got increasingly frustrated as he kept thinking about it without coming up with some logical explanation.

"You're thinking too damn loud."

"It is not possible to hear someone think."

"That would depend on whether or not the person was blonde." Blake answered with a smirk before rolling his eyes at the silence that greeted the statement. "Yeah, should have figured a dumb blonde crack would go over your head."

Bane let that pass, deciding to get straight to the point since he could only come up with irrational explanations for Blake's earlier behavior. "You stated that I am ripped, lickable, and that I need to put a shirt on. Explain why. Now."

"Sugar."

"Sugar?"

"Too much sugar." Blake elaborated, his eyes fixed on the movie like it held the secrets to the universe. "I had way too much sugar today and it went to my head and that plus a lack of sleep, the trauma of being kidnapped and experimented on, fried my brain. That's why I said those things."

"Sugar makes you express carnal interest?" Bane's eyes narrowed. "Were you speaking this way to Barsad?"

Turning his head to meet Bane's gaze Blake glared and told him that that was enough of the him being interested in Barsad crap. The only reason he didn't want to kick the man's ass anymore was because the man had saved him from being a very dead lab rat. And Jesus, they'd had him investigated for Christ's sake, hadn't they noticed he had very specific requirements when it came to his lovers?

Opening his mouth to comment Bane abruptly closed it again because he did recall the footnote in the file his spies and hackers had generated on Blake that had mentioned that apparently the detective had a marked preference for tall, heavily muscled men. He was tall and well muscled. He was, in fact, very ripped according to the other man.

"I…appeal to you physically?"

"Only when my brain is fried beyond use." Was the muttered response, though Bane just caught it.

"Why would someone of my size and stature appeal to you?" He was so confused. "I could snap you in two without straining myself."

"I'm aware of that."

When Blake didn't elaborate Bane got impatient and marched over to the bed and on his knees reached out and grabbing the detective's chin forced the other man's head over so that they were facing each other. "I will not ask you to explain again."

A war of thoughts and indecisions crossed the detective's face, Blake trying to decide what he should and shouldn't say. This was another landmine after all, especially since he didn't want to appear any weaker or foolish than he already had. Thankfully the self disgust was really starting to kick in, he was counting on it to keep his darker desires in check. But even as Blake thought that he couldn't help but be aware on every level that Bane was now on the bed with him, touching him, looking so deeply into his eyes that he couldn't shake the feeling that the man saw far, far more than he wished to reveal.

It was more self preservation than thought out reason that had him softly pointing out that to understand his preference in men Bane simply had to flip the threat large men posed around.

Considering this Bane's eyes lit up as the pieces fell into place, Blake's explanation finally making sense to him. The man desired physically superior men because he was aware enough to realize that choosing a mate based on things like money, looks, or social position was foolish, especially when one lived in a place such as Gotham. It was a basic evolutionary tactic, after all, to choose one's mate based on his ability to protect, provide, and survive. On that level he was far superior to the men Blake must have known before him, Bane realized, having never really stopped to think of himself in this way. He prided himself on his ability to take care of both himself and those under his protection, and if someone other than himself had been causing the present problems in Gotham he would have been more than able to protect Blake from both the city and the man's stubborn need to put himself in danger for others.

"You realize that you are a shield-you seek one who is a weapon to fight and protect alongside you."

"I'm a what?"

"Your purpose in this world is to protect, not to harm. You take pain in the place of others. It is not in your nature to shed the blood of others or look after yourself-that is why you seek a man who will do those things for you."

A scowl was Blake's response to that as he stated that he did NOT want a man who thought killing people was a good idea in his life. He had enough criminals to deal with in his day to day life, thank you very much. And he was capable of spilling blood, he'd spent time in some of the roughest neighborhoods Gotham had to offer for fuck sakes.

Bane listened to the man get all puffed up and outraged, his detective obviously hating to be seen as weak, but he was sure that he understood now and was focused on what he'd learned. It was no wonder the man had no partner, who in this corrupt, weak city would be good enough? The closest to himself in terms of strength and ability to take care of the detective was-

The tattoo Blake had inked into his skin flashed before Bane's eyes, a deep, dark fury following at the idea that that mark might be more than just a show of misplaced hero worship. That it might instead be a claiming. A mark of possession stating who the man belonged to.

Letting go of the man's chin Bane's hand went around to squeeze down hard on the tattoo that marred the detective's skin there, the action cutting Blake's rant off and making the man's eyes go wide, Blake's breathing hitching a little as well. "Was the Batman your sword?"

"If I'm a shield than he would be too. He doesn't kill either."

"He is simply defective, neither shield nor sword. He could not protect or defend you."

Blake automatically tried to shake his head, unsuccessful thanks to Bane's grip on the back of his neck. "No, he did save me. He didn't fail me."

"He left you here to die. He didn't save you from your coming death." Bane snarled, the mask distorting it to a sort of hiss. He didn't know why but suddenly he was furious at the Batman for not saving the detective from his current fate. For not protecting the man he touched now as he should have.

"He didn't leave me, you took him away!" Fury messing with his own breathing Blake glared back at Bane, somehow completely unafraid at the moment as he moved closer instead of away. "And he did save me. He gave me something to aspire to, proved that I could be more with every blow he took for Gotham. Every life he saved. And when that fucking bomb goes off I might be dead-but I'll die with honor. With the knowledge that I served and protected to the best of my fucking ability until my last breath was stolen from me by you. And that means a hell of a lot more to me than living a hundred years with blood on my hands and the knowledge that I did nothing with my life but fuck it and others up."

"I do not intend to kill you myself, the bomb-"

"The bomb is you! You are the bomb. You control it and when you allow it to go off everyone that dies, including me-our blood will be on YOUR hands. Killing someone by fucking remote doesn't absolve you of any fucking thing." The darkness that had first drawn Bane's attention to Blake now showed in the detective's eyes. "That's what you are, not a sword or a shield, but a bomb."

Bane's fury came through as he again snarled his disagreement. He was not a bomb, some volatile explosion of chemicals and metals whose only purpose was to be triggered, to destroy everything around him to rubble. He was a sword, a weapon that could both defend and attack and he said so.

"And who have you defended here? Who besides me is alive because of your so called mercy? Batman and I are only alive to amuse you, period."

Still riding his anger and not thinking straight Blake drew back his metaphorical sword and thrust it straight through the other man's chest with his next words.

"You're going to leave this world being seen as nothing but a monster, a beast that destroys everything without heart or an ounce of compassion. If you don't blow everyone up before the mobs start forming some gun fanatic is going to lead them to you with pitchforks and torches like some medieval witch hunt. And yeah you and your men will probably be able to take care of them, but that doesn't change who the villain, the monster in this movie is. And you know what? All the evil you'll rid the world of when you blow up Gotham, all the other villains there right now destroying my city, well you'll make martyrs out of each and every one of them. No one will remember the horrible things they did, they'll be the victims and people will be sorry they died, set up memorials and teach about them in history classes. Their crimes will be forgiven, and they'll have you to thank for it. Save this world? Hah. You'll make people do the opposite of what you want just to fucking spite you!"

The hand Bane had placed by Blake's tattoo had shifted with the speech, the long fingers wrapping around the detective's neck and squeezing progressively harder, continuing to do so even after Blake had finished speaking. It was only their continued eye contact that kept him from finishing the detective off then and there.

They stayed like that for a long time, and then Bane unwrapped his fingers and left without a word.

And watching him leave Blake was determined not to forget again what kind of man Bane was ever again. He wasn't going to forgive and forget, not even if the man said please.

)

Bane sat on the kitchen's marble counter top, staring off into space. On the one hand it was better than eyeing the cookies he'd made himself even sicker on earlier, but the mercenary was not feeling particular rational or inclined to look on the bright side. He'd come down with the thought to destroy the cookies, throw them away and then in the morning tear down every decoration in Blake's room in punishment for his earlier words, but unfortunately his years in The Pit had made him incapable of wasting perfectly good food even if it was sugary, unhealthy crap. Or at least that was the excuse he was prepared to use for why he hadn't destroyed the cookies and had instead eaten over a dozen of them instead.

They'd been unbelievably good.

He sensed Barsad before the man noticed him, the other mercenary stopping dead when he'd taken three quick strides into the unlit kitchen.

Nodding his head in acknowledgement Barsad thought about lying as to his reason for being there and then decided not to bother. Walking over to the counter opposite his boss he helped himself to two more gingerbread cookies and then walked over to the fridge to get himself some milk too.

"You enjoy them."

"Yes." Barsad didn't even want to think about how many he'd eaten throughout the day, but he just couldn't stop, dammit. It was a good thing he knew that nothing Blake had put into the cookies contained even a little poison, because the way everyone in the house was eating the damn things they'd all be dead come morning.

"Blake says that I am a bomb…and that my actions will make martyrs of the people of Gotham."

Putting the milk away Barsad turned to face his leader without expression. "And why should you care what he thinks?"

"Do you think he is right?"

"I think my opinion does not matter either." The way Bane looked at him made it clear that wasn't what the man wanted to hear. Which was not good for either of them, Barsad thought as he remained where he was, just on case. Not that he could escape his master, and he would not try anyway, but still, it was basic human nature to wish some space between you and an alpha predator. "I do not think you are a bomb. But yes, in the eyes of some, you will have whitewashed the dead citizens of this city."

Hating the confirmation Bane nodded his head slowly. He'd been sitting there for quite a while after all, and Blake's previous comments about history and its lessons had kept echoing in his ears. Whenever people died in mass numbers due to violence they tended to be lumped together, labeled either victims or evil deserving of their fate. The Holocaust, the World Wars, 9/11 and others, bad people had to have been mixed in with those who'd led relatively blameless lives and yet they had died together and were remembered collectively as victims. In death many crimes were often forgiven or completely forgotten. No one liked speaking badly of the dead unless everyone was.

"Is there a way to change that?" Bane didn't think so, he couldn't think of one, but he put the question out there anyway. According to Blake he didn't listen to other people well enough, and after Talia there was no one he trusted more than Barsad.

Barsad was quiet for several minutes, Bane not rushing him, and then the mercenary shook his head and answered. "No. Things are in motion that cannot be stopped or altered. She will not allow them to be. This would not be your way to do things, Brother. This is not your way. It's hers."

Bane growled low in his throat, perceiving Barsad's words as an insult towards his Talia.

"I merely speak the truth." Barsad didn't reveal a hint of wariness or panic. "You do not play with your prey. This city would already be in ruins if the plan had been of your design. She must have suffering first."

"This city stole her father from her."

"He came to steal their lives from them." Barsad pointed out, opting to leave out the fact that the former head of the League of Shadows had passed on his love of unnecessarily complicated plots to his daughter. He and Bane did not share that love, but Bane would go against his nature to please Talia always. What Talia wanted Talia got.

Bane slid off the counter, rising to his full height as he demanded to know if Barsad was daring to suggest that there was even one person in Gotham who would have done the world more good than Ra's al Ghul.

"I could not say, I do not know the potential of every man, woman and child trapped in this city. How it would have changed the history of this country if our great leader had succeeded and the Batman, Detective Blake and the rest of the citizens had all died at Ra's al Ghul's hand then."

He would never have known Blake had Talia's father been triumphant, Bane realized abruptly, unaware that Barsad had deliberately mentioned the detective to make his point. His former leader would have snuffed out the bright light that was Blake without even meeting him, seeing his worth and all the potential he possessed.

Nor did he himself know all the people of Gotham.

But even weighed down with the sudden weight those thoughts had put on his shoulders, Bane's voice broke no argument when he spoke next.

"What is done is done. Nothing can be changed now."

)

The silence that followed that statement, like an edict had just been made, had Blake slowly backing away from the kitchen door, his sock feet making not a hint of sound as he seamlessly blended back into the shadows from which he'd come. He'd grown up in a world where it was often best not to be seen or heard, calling attention to one's self a good way to lose blood or consciousness. And there were some things that didn't leave you, especially when every animal instinct you possessed screamed that he would be dead in a heartbeat if Bane knew or suspected he'd overheard the conversation the man had just had with Barsad. His already darkly bruised throat burned every time he swallowed, reminding him of how easy it would be for either man to end him.

Reaching the stairs Blake carefully made his way up them, his ears straining for any sound while praying desperately that the two mercenaries would remain in the kitchen just a little longer and that he'd have time to get to the second floor before they called it a night.

He'd gone down to put away the empty bowl he'd stored his popcorn in…and had instead gotten information that could be critical to finding the woman with the remote. Because where else would it be, Blake thought as he reached his floor. This woman Bane and Barsad answered to wanted them all to suffer, so of course she'd have the remote with her so that she could look at it and touch it and know that she held their lives in her hands. Like a serial killer with a trophy of a kill.

And if he had to risk marching through the woods, with all its darkness and shadows to find the true beast-well that's precisely what he'd do, the detective thought, already making plans in his head. That she was using Bane, letting him take all the blame while she hid who and what she truly was…

That pissed him off more than words could say for some reason.


	10. Come After Us

Come After Us

Studying his throat in the mirror Blake figured he had the Venom still in his system to thank for the fact that the bruising looked days old instead of recent. It hurt a little to swallow, and talking wasn't pleasant either when he tried it, but at least he wouldn't have to carry around a pen and paper to talk to anyone. If he felt like talking to someone, Blake mentally added, which wasn't likely. What he wanted to do was fine out who the real evil villain in all this was and then kick her ass from here back to the nearest high security prison still working. He was willing to hit a girl at the moment, especially knowing that on top of destroying his city this bitch Bane answered too didn't even have the guts to take responsibility for her actions.

The words that came to mind at the thought of her would have earned him a mouthful of soap if Father Reilly knew he was thinking them.

Amused by the thought Blake smiled, though not for long when he imagined what kind of a Christmas the kids at the home were going to have this year. Family holidays were hard enough but this- and if it was their last one…

Cursing the fact that he and Bane were currently on such bad terms, and he pretty sure it would take a minor miracle to get back in the man's good graces before Christmas, Bane wondered if Barsad had enough authority to arrange for some of the food in the house to go to the kids. It wouldn't hurt to ask, especially if he bribed the man with more cookies.

Barsad had a sweet tooth and he was more than devious enough to use it against him.

A man on a mission now Blake left the bathroom and finished dressing, heading downstairs once that was completed. No one was around, which was a little unnerving, but it wasn't like he wanted to deal with his crazy captors before he was fully awake anyway. No one was in the kitchen when he got there, though a great many of his cookies had gone missing during the night. It was nice to know they were being enjoyed, even if the people eating them weren't the ones he wanted to feed. In short order the detective whipped up some hot oatmeal, not because he liked the stuff but because he figured it would be just the thing for his throat. And if it wasn't…well it was supposed to be good for him, though he'd never really thought it could be worth it health wise.

Resigned to his fate Blake sat down to eat the mushy goop, halfway through the bowl when he sensed that he was no longer alone, lifting his head up to meet Barsad's gaze. "Hey."

Walking over the mercenary looked over the bruising thoroughly before speaking. "You are to spend the morning in the library reading one of the five books he's set out for you. In the afternoon you are to be driven around the city to see what has become of it in your absence. I suggest you be on your best behavior for the car ride…if you wish to continue living. Any questions?"

"Yes. If I swear on my mother's soul to behave would you be willing to see that the extra food around here, or even cookies that I can make later, go to St. Swithins Boys' Home before Christmas? There's cookies in it for you too."

Barasad considered the request and could see no harm in it, especially given the intended recipients, and stated that he would speak to Bane about it. That was all he would do.

"Fair enough." Stirring his spoon through what was left of his oatmeal Blake asked if the man wanted him to throw together some breakfast for him too. He did need the man's cooperation and goodwill after all.

"No."

Accepting that answer Blake asked if Bane was around, thinking that he could see which of the books left for him appealed to the man the most. He had some kissing up to do to help the kids.

"No."

And obviously not wanting to talk the mercenary headed out again, leaving Blake to finish his breakfast as quickly as possible so that he could head to the library to get started on his assignment. And hey, he was going for a car ride later. That was something to look forward to too.

Maybe.

)

Not being a fool Bane knew that Talia had put off meeting with him as a punishment for countering her order. Her excuse that she couldn't get away without drawing suspicions was a lie and he thought she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't buy that for a moment. When she wanted something she found a way to get it. So it had been meant as a punishment, but it hadn't felt like one. In fact, so consumed was he with thoughts of Blake that he had at times forgotten all about her, which had never happened before. Always his world had revolved around her and he didn't like the change.

Didn't like how the world looked when seen through his pet's eyes.

Watching her walk into the room he immediately went to her, ingrained habits coming into play as he let her hug him, hugging her back before allowing her to part them.

"You are angry with me, My Friend."

"Yes."

The surprise on her face would have been comical if she'd been someone else.

"The drug was not to be used again. It was to be destroyed."

Recovering quickly, she had always thought fast on her feet, Talia reached up to place her hands on his cheeks, her tone gentle and soothing as she assured him that it had never had been her or her father's intention to use the drug as it had been used on him. They'd merely been experimenting with it all these years in the hopes of breaking the process down in its entirety to see if it could be used to help him and others, not cause them pain. Didn't he remember that she'd been with him, every minute that she could, once he'd been taken from The Pit? How she'd been in agony right along with him while he'd detoxed his body of Venom once he'd been strong enough to do so?

Listening to her Bane could feel himself being pulled into her gravitational pull, a sense of calm and rightness washing over him as her words reassured him. And yet…and yet there was a part of him that refused to come, to heed her call. A part that said that it was far better to be drawn to his detective's words than Talia's, that even though they both had agendas and sought to make him see things their way…she demanded mindless obedience, while Blake challenged him always to think.

It was better to think, wasn't it, than blindly obey even when you would trust the person with your life?

"Bane, are you listening to me?"

"Yes." Putting his much larger hands over hers Bane met her gaze squarely, sure of one thing. "I wish you to end all experiments. No good will ever come of Venom. Your word, Talia."

When she began to argue Bane simply held her gaze, watching it slowly dawn on her that this was not something she could talk him out of. He was dead serious about this and there would be no arguing or debating of any kind. He was telling her what to do and it had nothing to do with keeping her safe or advising her about how to best go about getting what she wanted. No, he was giving her an order that did not benefit her in any way.

The way she said his name, so baffled and almost childish, felt like the tip of a blade poking here and there, seeking where best to enter in retribution for speaking to her this way. But in this he would not be moved and he simply said her name in turn. Affectionately yes, but his eyes remained steady and resolute.

"You have my word." She said finally, pulling her hands out from under his. "That you need it…hurts me very much."

"I am sorry for that."

Wrapping her arms as far around his waist as she could Talia set her head on his shoulder, telling him that she was nervous over how smoothly everything was going, and the painfully grief of knowing how proud her father would be of both of them for accomplishing this task for him. She so desperately wanted to do him proud.

"The city is ours." Bane reminded her softly. "We will not fail."

"We'll destroy this city together, won't we, My Friend."

"Have I ever failed you?"

"No. Never."

And she would make very, very sure that that never happened.

)

Sitting between a minor mountain and the guy who'd been introduced to him as Phillipe, Blake tried to look cool and calm as he pondered what fate awaited him. He was pretty sure that Bane had reserved the right to kill him, but there were worse fates that could befall him than a broken neck and they all knew it. That he was suddenly being taken on a tour of his city, ostentatiously to rub it in his face that he wasn't there protecting it anymore, did not feel right after the conversation he'd had with Bane the night before. Initially, at breakfast, he hadn't question Barsad's orders, but now that he was surrounded by bad guys he didn't know who were armed and didn't like cops…he was thinking he should have stayed in his room all day instead.

Mentally praying that none of the four other men in the huge sport utility vehicle were trigger happy and looking to kill him, Blake stayed as quiet as possible as they seemed to wander aimless through the streets. So far the other three had ignore him, he didn't even know their names, and Phillipe only issued orders when necessary. They all looked around his age or younger too, so apparently he wasn't considered enough of a threat to require real, seasoned guards. Mature or not the four had him surrounded, Blake noted, on alert but not paying him all that much attention. They seemed pretty sure he wouldn't get away from them as they gave him a driving tour through the streets of his city, something he really hoped to make them regret somehow.

His promise to behave until Boxing Day be damned. He wasn't at the house anymore.

Unfortunately he couldn't see a way to get the hell out of the vehicle without his new entourage. He was stuck in the back between two men, and earlier he'd pointed out that he would be able to see the ruins of his city a lot better if he was beside a window and had been ignored. They all knew that he knew how bad it was out there, he didn't need this little trip to shove it further down his throat.

It was depressing as hell to know that all he really could do was marvel over the fact that perhaps this dumb car ride was really his punishment for calling Bane a bomb the night before, his plans to decorate his tree once again on hold as they cruised through the nearly empty, snow covered streets. Naturally he'd already considered and braced himself for the real possibility that Bane was going to use this time to destroy everything Christmas related in the Parrish house to spite him, and if that happened…well that would suck but he'd get through it. He could still sing carols and tell himself the 'Christmas Carol' story and hopefully cook Christmas appropriate food.

At least that was the plan, if he was taken back to the house after this instead of being killed, gang raped, and or mutilated beyond recognition in the immediate future. That would definitely destroy his holiday mood in a very big way.

They'd been driving around for at least two hours when it happened, the vehicle halfway down a deserted street when the front windshield was suddenly covered with splashes of paint, the other windows getting similar treatment with Blake unable to see the perps as the car came to a screeching halt.

Then the howling started and he knew.

"Oh shit. The Timber Wolves."

Phillipe demanded to know what he was talking about, the rest of the car's occupants finally paying proper attention to him.

Talking fast and loud so that he could be heard over the gleeful howling, Blake explained that they were about to go up against a violent street gang who called themselves The Timber Wolves. They used and sold crystal meth, were extremely violent, and loved to stalk and play with their prey. Part of initiation was filing your teeth into fangs, and all members wore brass knuckles outfitted with spikes to give them claws. They might attack with blades or guns, but they always used their 'fangs' and 'claws' to maul their victims as a sick calling card.

Mixing in with the howls was the sound of things being thrown at the vehicle, then hands and 'claws' making contact along the sides as they were assaulted with the knowledge that they were not only surrounded, but if they tried to drive ahead the odds of them hitting a wall were high. And once the car was crashed they were sunk since the human wolves would undoubtedly follow.

"This is where you lot call for backup." Blake informed them in the voice he used when he'd gotten stuck talking to kindergarteners about not talking to strangers and looking both ways before you crossed the street.

"Fuck that." The minor mountain unlocked the door and pushed it open, Blake calling him a bunch of names as he dove across the seat, intending to close the door but not reaching it soon enough, a brass knuckled hand coming through the space to catch his outstretched arm, using it to yank him the rest of the way out so that he tumbled onto the ground in a heap.

Instinct had Blake him kicking out, his jaw dropping a little at the sound of bones breaking and the agonized scream that followed the attacker's collapse onto the ground too. In some part of his mind Blake knew he had Venom to thank for that, but for the time being he had other things to think about like staying alive.

The sound of gunfire had him scrambling to his feet, Blake barely managing to avoid the clawed punch to his head, bring his own fists into play with disturbing strength that had him second guessing himself when he realized that if his fist connected odds were someone's bones were going to break. It made him hesitate which was how he ended up back on the ground a couple minutes later with the taste of blood in his mouth and more than a couple very sore ribs.

Grabbing a chunk of wood that was lying nearby Blake spit blood out of his mouth and got back into the fray, using the piece of lumber like a bat and trying to rein in his strength so that he didn't kill anyone accidentally.

It was four of them against eight still standing after the gun play, their fifth man, the one who'd gotten out of the vehicle willingly, was dead in the snow, having bled out from a throat wound.

Or make that nine, the detective realized seconds later as a hand wrapped around his ankle, jerking hard on it so that he fell on his hands, Blake instinctively delivering a donkey kick with free leg that thankfully caught his would be attacker in the shoulder. Freed he rejoined the fight, Gotham's occupation having honed the street fighting skills he'd let go once he'd donned the uniform. Now he fought down and dirty, not giving a damn about how low he had to sink so long as he didn't kill the hyped up druggies who didn't have the sense to run away.

Blood and curses flew, Blake and Bane's men forming a square as they faced off against their respective opponents, trusting the others to watch their backs. Survival was the name of the game and unlike the gang member the four were controlled and keeping their heads as the fists flew.

Eventually there were only two left on the other side and they ran, Blake flinching when Phillipe retrieved a gun off the ground and put bullets into their fleeing backs, all of them watch the men drop to the ground turn more snow red.

Meeting the mercenary's gaze when it swung back to meet his, Blake didn't look away until the death moans of another man distracted him, had him turning his head to scan the multiple bodies around them as he looked for the source of it. There were at least thirty dead, no surprise since many people had started joining or forming gangs in the hopes of surviving since Bane had taken over. If the others hadn't fist relied on their guns to thin out the competition they'd have been screwed.

Walking from body to body, some with chests still moving though unconscious, Blake came to one whose chest jerked as it struggled to breath, the blood around the boy's torso too concentrated for any chance of survival. Kneeling down Blake took the gang members hand in his, watched the dark eyes latch onto his as the boy, no more that eighteen, tried to speak in halted Spanish, the words not nearly as understandable as his fear. He knew death was coming, and he was afraid.

His grip on the boy's hand firm Blake spoke softly in his high school level Spanish, struggling to translate what he remembered of the last rites Father Reilly had taught him for just such an occasion. He was probably buggering his pronunciation and phrasing beyond belief, but the eye contact and joined hands meant at least the boy knew he wasn't alone as death took him, and there was some easing of the fear in those big brown eyes.

Closing the boy's eyes when there was no more life in them Blake got to his feet and stood over him a moment in respectful silence before looking behind him at the other three men who stood there, silently watching him.

Walking over to stand in front of them Blake asked what they were going to do now.

)

Okay, today's reference is so obvious it's impossible to miss. Meanwhile, to catch up, Chapter 7's reference was Mrs. Potts and Chip, and Chapter 9 was the reference to a gun fanatic (Gaston) and a mob going after the perceived monster. Chapter 8 is super hard and I'm still hoping someone will find it without me telling. Eventually I'll tell you though, promise.


	11. Life Is So Unnerving

Dedicated to mjHOPE94, who found two of the three small references in Chapter 8! The big one was Blake saying 'If you like it all that much it's yours' from Belle's conversation with the bookstore owner. The other two were Blake wearing a 'dreamy, far off look' and Bane wishing he'd kept his 'nose stuck in a book'.

Life Is So Unnerving

He'd gotten the news about Blake after the meeting with Talia, Barsad relaying the details he'd been sent while he'd been waiting in the car. Bane's second in command had watched the conflict in his leader's eyes with interest, not even all that surprised when Bane ordered him to go on without him, putting him in charge of dealing with the rest of the tasks they'd planned to complete before heading back to the house for the night. The Gotham detective had a light that attracted Bane to him, Barsad thought but didn't say, one that made his comrade determined to protect and preserve that light even when common sense said it would be better to smother the light so that they could return to the darkness they were used to.

In this case though…he wanted Blake to live long enough for Bane to see the difference between the 'light' the man mistakenly saw in Talia, and the very different light that their captive possessed. What would happen if Bane did come to see the differences clearly, and understand what those variances meant…well that could change a great many fates.

So Barsad accepted the new orders without comment and arranged for a vehicle to come pick Bane up to take the man back to the house and the new light in his friend's life.

Once Barsad was gone and he'd been left alone in the abandon warehouse to wait for his transportation to arrive Bane allowed his emotional shields to drop completely, picking up a piece of discarded pipe from the ground with hands that shook ever so slightly. Breaking it into gradually shorter pieces, the effort and destruction focusing his thoughts a little, Bane mentally reminded himself that his apparently accident prone detective was fine. According to the report Barsad had received from Phillipe Blake's worst wound was a gash on his arm. Apparently the idiot had sought to provide some medical aid to his attackers while they'd been waiting for their pick up and had been slashed with a blade for his trouble. The wound was supposed to be minor, but he wouldn't believe that until he saw it for himself.

What the hell was wrong with his ignorant, naïve, and just plain stupid detective, Bane mentally raged as he threw aside what was left of the pipe and turned his attention to breaking everything in his vicinity with cold, methodical fury. Why did the man not understand that this was a war zone, that sympathy or compassion for your enemies only got you killed? How could Blake not know that the majority of people running rampant in the city were not remotely worth his time or effort and that he should be focusing only on his continued survival? The City of Gotham had done absolutely nothing to warrant the headstrong fool's loyalty and blood and if he had to beat that knowledge into the man's head he would at this point.

The idea suited his mood perfectly in fact.

And while he was at it, Bane mentally added, Blake would not be allowed to step a foot outside the house unless he or Barsad were with the detective at the time from now on. The simpleton simply couldn't be trusted to remain in one piece without adult supervision. In fact, locking the man in his room wasn't entirely out of the question at this point because how dare Blake upset and worry him like this! He shouldn't care, Bane knew he shouldn't care, but he did and it was getting increasingly harder to pretend that that wasn't the case. He wasn't a man who lied to himself, who refused to see the truth or take the easy way out.

Why couldn't there be more things wrong with the detective? The man was from Gotham, born and bred, he should have more flaws, be corrupted and twisted from decades spent within the city's crime filled streets. Yet somehow, through all the trials and hardships the detective had faced, despite the darkness that lived within the man's soul, Blake was a brilliant, blazing shield that wouldn't be dirtied or used by anyone.

It reminded him of when he was very young, in The Pit, struggling for a brief glimpse of the blue sky whenever the opportunity arose. Eventually he'd stopped seeking out the unexpected burst of color in his dark world as he grew up, hating the brief glimpses that had become a cruel taunt, but every once in a while he hadn't been able to help himself, to believe that someday, perhaps, he'd get more than a glimpse. Eventually Talia had become his sky, one he could hold and call his own, and yet…and yet she didn't make his heart ache the way the promise of the sky had when he was a boy. As Blake did sometimes, when the detective looked at him as though he were a man and not a monster.

But Talia was what mattered, Bane tried to tell himself, desperate to believe it and shut out the voice that said that maybe, just maybe, he was lying to himself about that.

)

When Bane finally arrived at the house it was to find that Phillipe was standing guard outside Blake's bedroom, the young mercenary having taken it upon himself to watch over the detective until he was told to do otherwise. No one had told him what to do after bringing Blake back to the house so he'd thought air on the side of caution, the other man explained while standing at full attention, wound up tight as a spring though he tried not to show it. He knew that he might be punished for the slight wounds Blake had received when they'd been ambushed, and he was ready to face his punishment without flinching. He'd heard the rumors of what the detective was to Bane. Death was a possibility.

"His arm has been taken care of?"

"He insisted on cleaning and bandaging it himself when we arrived here. He did a competent enough job, and seemed to have no problem using it when he threw together a meal. After he finished eating he retired to his room and has made no request for medical assistance."

Knowing Blake's stubbornness well Bane ordered the man to continue to stand guard until he returned, the mercenary heading off to his own room to collect his medical supplies before coming back with the sack in hand. If the wound needed further attention he would see to it.

"You are dismissed. Go back to your base camp."

"Yes, Sir."

Beating a hasty retreat Phillipe looked back to watch his leader enter the detective's room in spite of himself, not sure what to think of what he'd thought he'd seen in the other man's eyes while they'd been discussing Blake. He wouldn't speak of it though, not to anyone. Definitely time for him to be leaving though, before he did or said something stupid.

Unaware of what he had possibly given away moments before Bane scanned the bedroom for signs of life and found the room empty. Since he assumed Phillipe valued his life too much to lie Bane turned his head in the direction of the bathroom, which was the only other place Blake could be. Walking over to the door he listened intently, his ears not picking up anything that would indicate it was in use in some way. Still, Blake could be in the tub, Bane reasoned, soothing the muscles the man had no doubt strained with a hot soak.

Deciding to check Bane opened the door soundlessly and stepped inside, his gaze going automatically towards the huge black tub to the right of him. Naturally he saw the bandaged arm draped over the edge right away, the limb hanging limp and unmoving, the angle suggesting that the rest of the man's body…

Dropping the sack to the floor Bane was beside the tub in seconds, his logical mind taking in the fact that aside from the bandaged arm the rest of Blake's body was submerged under water, the man's eyes closed and body relaxed.

"No!"

On that exclamation Bane reached in and slid his hands under Blake's arms, yanking the younger man up and out of the tub to suspend him in mid-air, water flying everywhere. Easily taking the detective's weight Bane let out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding as Blake body sprang into action, the detective's hands flying out to grip down on Bane's shoulders for support, his eyes open and fiercely alive as he demanded to know what the hell was wrong with him.

"You will not drown yourself!" Bane ordered, desperately relieved to see that he hadn't been too late and trying to hide it.

"I wasn't trying to drown myself, you idiot! I was practicing!"

Seeing Bane's confusion Blake rolled his eyes, body relaxing slightly now that he knew what was going on. "You do know what happens to cops in Crane's 'court' right? We all know we have a choice between a bullet in the brain or a walk across the ice. Anyway, ever since I found out I've been working on conditioning my body, trying to increase the time I can stay under before needing to come up for air. If I was trying to kill myself there are a lot quicker, easier ways, FYI."

Bane was both willing and able to see the truth of that statement now that fear no longer had him by the throat, inhibiting his common sense. His detective was a fighter, a survivor. His pet would not choose death unless no other option was open to him.

"You will not be sent across the ice."

"Better over prepared than under." He was determined to escape after all, and recapture was always a possibility. Cops went straight to Crane.

Unable to argue that point, he believed in preparing for multiple outcomes so as never to be caught off guard, Bane simply continued to study the man's face in silence until Blake said his name softly in a questioning manner. "Yes?"

"You do realize I'm butt naked and getting you soaking wet, right?"

He hadn't, actually, but now that Blake had drawn his attention to their circumstances Bane was very much aware of the fact that water was dripping and divided on its way down the very warm and naked body he was holding up so that Blake was actually looking down at him. His clothes were soaked through as a result, clinging to his frame as lovingly as the water clung to dips and curves that had recently become more pronounced on Blake's body since he'd been exposed to Venom.

Not wanting to look or think about that body Bane forced himself to return his gaze to meet Blake's. "Your wounds are minor aside from your arm?" He'd been briefed that that was the case, but he wished to explain away the thorough way he'd been looking over the detective's body.

"Yeah, I…Shit."

Glancing in the direction that Blake was now looking Bane took in the red that was spreading over the former white of the bandages. This was something he knew, something he could take care of. Carefully he turned and then set Blake down so that he was flatfooted on the ground now, Bane's voice broking no argument as he told the man to go take a seat on the bathroom counter. He'd take care of the wound.

"I can handle it. You should be doing bad guy stuff, not helping me." Bane was the enemy, Blake reminded himself sternly, trying desperately to hide how aware he was of their present situation. Thinking about Bane sexually again would not end well for either of them, and he was going to remind himself of that fact until it sank in.

That he found the ease with which Bane had held him up ridiculously sexy, on top of the muscle play which had just been the cherry on top, was embarrassing enough without Bane catching on.

Not liking the way Blake was refusing to look at him now Bane laid down the law so to speak. "You will sit or I will make you."

Pretty sure that he'd fail epically if he tried to stare Bane down, Blake shook his head and gave in, grabbing a large bath towel to wrap around his waist since he wasn't about to stay naked with things so weird between them. Once that was secure and in place he leaned down to take care of his bath water, sorry he couldn't soak longer, and then crossing the room Blake hopped up on the counter to start undoing the bandages he'd put on earlier. Trying to school his features as the wound came into view Blake wasn't happy to see that his arm was still bleeding sluggishly, making it clear that just wrapping it up again wasn't going to do the trick. Dammit.

Having retrieved his bag Bane set it beside Blake and then reached out to study the wound, silently debating whether it was deep enough to require stitches. Not quite, he decided, announcing that he'd clean it and then use butterfly bandages to close the wound properly, which was what Blake should have done in the first place.

Not about to argue, Bane no doubt knew a lot more about this kind of thing than he did, Blake gave the go ahead to do as he liked. At least he wasn't going to have to get stitches, he told himself, poking at the wound with his finger like the touch would magically close it up.

"Don't do that." Bane ordered as he set out the supplies he'd need.

Dropping his hand away with a sullen look Blake lapsed into silence, ignore the mercenary so that his brain didn't register the man's order to stay still until Bane splashed some sort of liquid on the wound that had him yelping in startled pain.

"THAT HURTS!"

"If you stayed still it wouldn't hurt as much."

"Well if you hadn't sent me on the tour from hell this wouldn't have happened!"

"If you had stayed in the vehicle you wouldn't have been injured in the first place."

Blake gasped in outrage. "Well if your man hadn't put us in danger I would have been safe."

"Well you should have learned to protect yourself better."

Death glares went back and forth for a couple minutes before Bane remembered what he was supposed to be doing, the mercenary forcing himself to focus on the wound once more as he again told Blake to stay still BECAUSE this would sting a little.

Prepared this time Blake grinched his teeth and managed not to swear as the wound was thoroughly cleaned, silently repeating over and over again that this wasn't nearly as bad as being exposed to Venom and damn if he was going to look like a complete and total wimp in front of Bane again. And while that helped a little the detective didn't unclench his teeth until the cleaning part was over and Bane turned his attention to applying the butterfly bandages.

"By the way…thank you…for saving my life…in theory. For not wanting me to drown, I mean." The words came out awkward as hell, but Blake knew it would bug him if he didn't at least acknowledge that Bane had thought he was in trouble earlier, when he'd scared the hell out of him. "And thanks for fixing up my arm…even if it is totally YOUR fault I was out there in the first place."

"You're welcome."

Blake waited until the wound had been tended to in Bane's eyes, the bandages perfectly spaced and aligned before he spoke again, well aware that his previous apology had left a lot to be desired considering that it had occurred to him while Bane was playing doctor that he had asked Barsad to ask Bane for a favor on his behalf. A favor that Bane might not be inclined to give now, though the man didn't look angry as he moved back a few steps so that Blake could slide off the counter.

"This looks really good." Studying the job Blake was willing to admit it looked a hell of a lot better than it had earlier.

"It would be advisable for you not to injury yourself in the near future again." He would not react well if that were to happen. He seemed to lose more and more control every time someone tried to take the detective from him…Bane was almost afraid of what he'd do should there be a next time.

Blake gave him an annoyed look. "You do know I've never set out to injury myself, right? That it's you putting me in dangerous situations that's the problem here. You stop doing that and neither of us will have to go through this again until you blow me up."

It was on the tip of Bane's tongue to inform Blake that the tour of the city hadn't been his idea in the first place, but he reined that impulse in since the curious detective would want to know whose idea it had been. Blake couldn't know about Talia, no one could.

Since Bane wasn't responding to the truth, big surprise, Blake sighed and headed out of the bathroom, feeling a definite sense of déjà vu as he was followed out of the bathroom like a mama duck and her duckling.

Bane was definitely no duckling though, Blake thought with a smirk, and his feelings for the man were most definitely not parental.


	12. Oh He's So Cute

Disclaimer: As always we'll own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in.

Oh He's So Cute

Ignoring the fact that Bane was following him for the moment, Blake headed straight for the bed where he'd laid out a new set of clothes. Of course now he had to take the towel off, he silently acknowledged, which made him aware of Bane's presence on level that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. But there was no way in hell he was going to let on how aware he was so instead he reminded himself that Venom had given him the ass of his dreams and as long as Bane didn't see his front being naked he was good. That could end badly given that his hair wasn't the only thing standing up.

Pulling his towel loose Blake slung it over his shoulder and then grabbed the loose pajama bottoms, stepping into them as quickly as possible.

Watching the other man set aside the towel and put a long sleeved shirt on Bane knew in his gut that yes, yes he was attracted to his man both mentally and physically. He might not know what he wanted, exactly, but he had to accept that yes, he wanted Detective Robin John Blake to belong to him. But he had no precedent for these feelings and urges, no idea how to behave or approach Blake in a manner other than the way he did now. And even if he were to make such an attempt he'd be rebuffed, wouldn't he? Because while the detective didn't approve of his actions concerning Gotham-Blake had made his physical interest in him known. But even if Blake didn't reject him there was the fact that he had never expected to desire sex with someone before, least of all male, and going by what knowledge he had of such things would not be wise.

"I wish to ask you a personal question."

"Shoot. Metaphorically." Blake tacked on, just in case.

Hiding his slight amusement Bane instead asked the question that was turning around in his head. "You are gay…but have you ever been attracted to a woman?"

Okay, he so didn't get why he was being asked this. "No. I'm a bottom, which means women can't interest me sexually, obviously. Not to mention women generally lack the size and muscle mass I prefer…unless they're on steroids which is a definite no no in my books."

In truth Bane hadn't given any thought to which of the two roles Blake chose to take when it came to his sexual encounters, sex wasn't something he thought about unless he had to, and now that he knew what position his detective chose to occupy in sexual encounters Bane couldn't help but recall his time in the The Pit. The men who'd been used as women there had either been forced or did so in trade for protection or extra provisions. Not once had he heard or seen a joining between two men that would indicate the interaction was remotely pleasurable to the one being taken. Yet he knew Blake was not someone who enjoyed pain, the man had yelped and complained like a child mere minutes ago while his wound was being cleaned and seen to. There had been no indication that Blake provided sexual favors for gain or because he had to before the city's occupation, which left him with the idea that the detective enjoyed having sex with other men…but that made no sense to him.

"Okay, you're giving me the weirdest looks. What?"

"I do not see why you enjoy sex."

A surprised laugh crossing Blake's lips, the detective's eyes crinkled in amusement before the grin he was wearing slowly faded as he realized why Bane might be confused about this. After all…the man's sexual education had taken place in a hell hole not even fit to be called a prison.

"You were amused and now you are sad. Why?"

"I was amused until I realized why you would be confused. Give me a minute to think of how to explain this to you." Because it wasn't enough for him to just say sex was supposed to feel good for both parties, not in this case.

Crossing his arms in front of him Blake struggled to come up with an explanation that Bane could understand given that the man probably didn't have a lot of experience interacting with the outside world. Prisoners and mercenaries didn't interact with the outside world, at least not for very long or in a positive way. Plus it had to be simple just because Bane's thoughts on this particular issue were probably deeply ingrained, possibly even the reason why Bane had no interest in sex in the first place. It went without saying that the man would have seen rape, perhaps even been sexually abused himself before he was big enough to fight back. He would hope that the inhumane bastards who'd cast Bane into The Pit in the first place had had just enough decency to keep the child Bane had been away from the general population, but he wasn't about to hold his breath there.

It took Blake a lot longer than it should have to concentrate on his promise to come up with an example, his mind generating all sorts of horrors Bane could have experienced or been subjected to, but finally he came up with one that would require very little contact between them but would still visually reinforce what he was trying to demonstrate.

"Hold out your hand like this."

Bane studied the hand Blake held out in front of him like he was telling him to stop, wondering what the point was even as he raised his own arm and copied the man's action, body jerking ever so slightly when Blake moved closer and meshed his fingers through Bane's, his own fingers parting naturally to allow the action.

"You could break my fingers or wrench my arm in this position. We both know how strong you are, how easy it is to cause harm or be selfish. You could also hurt me accidentally, like if an explosion suddenly went off outside the house and you squeezed down without meaning to, or if you misjudged your strength or mine like I did early when I did more damage than I intended to because I didn't know the power Venom would give me." Lightly Blake squeezed the hand joined with his. "What we're doing doesn't hurt because we aren't trying to hurt each other and it's unlikely that we're going to accidentally do that barring some unexpected surprise. People have sex and hold hands for a lot of reasons, but usually it's because they have a bond with that person and it's a way of showing it. I only sleep with men who are as interested in giving me pleasure as they are receiving it, and if they hurt me or cause some discomfort it's not on purpose. Does that answer your question?"

Slowly Bane nodded, though his eyes were focused on their joined hands like the gesture somehow held the key to the secrets of the universe.

"Bane?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you looking at our hands like that? I…I can't be the first person to ever hold your hand…am I?"

"No, you are not the first." A thoughtful pause. "But your hand is different."

)

Feeling his ears go hot, damn them, Blake forced himself not to ask how his hand was different. Instead he fought the urge to jerk his hand out of Bane's grip as he asked if Barsad had talked to him about the request he'd asked the other man to pass along to him. When Bane shook his head in the negative Blake opted to make the request himself. "Would you be willing to transport food from here to the boys' home I grew up in? You, Barsad and I are pretty much the only three people that eat here regularly and some of the food's going to go bad soon anyway." A slight exaggeration, but not an area Bane would have much knowledge of hopefully. "It is almost Christmas…and if this is the last one they're going to have it seems only fair that you let them have at least one decent meal beforehand. I'd handle everything except transportation, and I'll make you and Barsad all the cookies you can eat. And Christmas dinner here too. Please."

"It would make you happy if I allowed this?"

"Well yeah, obviously, though that's not why I'm asking."

"I will arrange it then, for tomorrow or the day after." Bane decided then and there, the huge smile that broke over Blake's face more than payment enough.

To thank Bane for agreeing to let him put together some food to go to Swithins, as well as hoping to get his hand free since the other man was making no effort to let go, Blake asked the mercenary if he wanted to stick around and help him finally decorate his Christmas tree. Bane had been interested in it before, and it would be a hell of a lot easier to drape the popcorn chains over the branches if he had some help.

Surprised at the offer Bane let go of Blake's hand, eyes thoughtful as he studied the man's face before nodding his head.

"Good. Though it won't take that long given what I have to work with." Motioning for Bane to follow him over to the tree Blake picked up the first strand of popcorn and quickly explained how they would stand on either side and pass the strands to each other.

Nodding, Bane moved into place and did as he was told.

After Blake had passed the popcorn chain to him twice, thus drawing his attention to the bandaged arm, Bane couldn't help but point out that it had been foolish of him to try and help the men who had attempted to kill him earlier.

"Oh the irony."

"Irony?"

"Yeah." Blake shook his head as he adjusted the drape of the chain. "The guy I was kneeling down to check out just before I got slashed, I knew him from my time in foster care. We were in the same place for a couple months before he got thrown into juvie. His name was Tony Le Fou, and a lot of people called him Fool, as a play on his name."

"You were friends?"

The face he made said it all even before he shook his head. "Hell no. I couldn't stand him. He was a parasite, the kind of guy who latched onto the strongest person in the room and became his bitch in exchange for that person's protection or so called friendship. At his best he was like Milhouse from 'The Simpsons', but usually he was more of a Wormtail. But regardless of that I knew him…so I figured I should at least acknowledge that."

He didn't know this 'Simpsons' show the other man referred to, but he got the other reference and understood why people would refer to this 'parasite' as a fool. "Did he attempt to latch onto you?"

"Me? Naw, I was never the top of the food chain. The only time I benefited from knowing him was when the moron let himself be turned into a human snowman by some older kids at our school. He looked so ridiculous…I laughed harder than I had in years."

The rest of the popcorn strands were put up in thoughtful silence, Bane speaking up only after Blake had retrieved the single box that contained the few decorations Barsad had deemed safe for him to handle and have access to.

Studying the crocheted snowflake he'd been given to hang up, Bane looked at the tree and asked where he was supposed to put it.

"Anywhere you want. There's no wrong…okay, scratch that, there are wrong ways to decorate a tree, but in this case we're okay there given what we have to work with." Seeing Bane's confusion Blake went into a very familiar rant about how Christmas trees were not supposed to look like the tree equivalent of a runway model. The only theme should be Christmas, complete color coordination was just wrong, and there should always be homemade crap on it in some shape or form to balance out the bought stuff. That, Blake told Bane in no uncertain terms, was a REAL Christmas tree.

"I see." Though he really didn't. Hanging his snowflake on a random branch Bane decided it looked okay and then turned to study the rest of the box's contents, pulling out a ball shaped ornament made of feathers.

"Normally I would never use that but he took all the regular balls away." Blake informed him as he reached in and grabbed another snowflake, already having hung four ornaments to Bane's one. "Though what kind of damage he thinks those Christmas balls could do is beyond me. He wouldn't tell me either, he said it would give me ideas."

Hanging the ball on the tree Bane looked at its new resting place and then turned his head to look at Blake, the feathers having reminded him of something he'd been meaning to ask the other man for a while now. "Why do you choose to ignore your given name?"

A frown greeted that question, followed by the statement that if Bane didn't want to call him Blake he could call him John instead.

"But of the three names you have been given that suits you the least." When he was given a blank look in response Bane surmised that the detective had no idea as to the meanings behind the names he'd been given and decided to educate him. "John means 'Graced by God'. Blake , which is believed to be derived from Old English, is interesting in that no one is sure whether it comes from "blac", a nickname for someone who had dark hair or skin, or from "blaac", a name for someone with pale hair or skin. Because of that it is seen as representing both light and dark. Robin means 'Bright Fame'."

"Oh. Seriously? I just never liked it because it was so damn girlie, not to mention all the stupid Robin Hood jokes." Opening his mouth to ask about Bane's name Blake shut it just as quickly, recalling that the only use of the word 'bane' he'd ever heard was 'bane of my existence'. And while some jackasses would be saying that it was no wonder that Bane's name meant bad things-

Knowledge in his eyes Bane nodded his head as he stated that his own name had many different, somewhat conflicting meanings. In the West his name was known to refer to death, destruction, ruins and murderer, yes, but it could also mean 'glorious defender' as well. That he thought all those meanings suited him surprisingly well went unsaid.

Since it wouldn't be a compliment to say that the man's name really suited him Blake suggested that Bane refer to him by his last name since that was a happy medium if Bane didn't want to call him John. And not wanting to give the man space to argue, his stomach did flip flops at the idea of Bane calling him Robin, Blake announced that they really should have Christmas music playing to get in the proper mood. Thankfully someone in the house had left an Ipod with Christmas music in the library, and he'd brought it up with him earlier to hook up to the speakers he'd found days before in preparation for the tree trimming. In short order he'd accessed the Christmas playlist and music began playing, Blake immediately wincing at the fact that the first song to play was 'All I Want For Christmas'.

Telling himself that there was no reason to wince, it wasn't like Bane was going to interpret the song choice the wrong way, Blake walked back over to the box of ornaments and studiously avoided looking at Bane as he tried not to think about what the man would look like naked and gift wrapped.

Oh boy but he really needed to get his head examined.

And since a CAT scan wasn't available at the moment Blake tried to distract himself by humming along with the song, unaware when he switched over to actually singing.

Very aware of the shift Bane found himself ignoring the ornaments and the tree as he covertly watched the other man out of the corner of his eye, knowing Blake's instincts were honed enough that outright staring would be noticed. It was hard not to show his interest though, he wouldn't have taken the man for someone musically inclined. And while he had certainly heard more talented vocalists…he couldn't help but lose himself in the rich smoothness of Blake's voice.

For his part Blake kept singing without being aware of it for two more songs, the one after those jarring him out of his groove as he tried to figure out why the hell the Beatles song would be included on a Christmas playlist. It wasn't the Beatles singing it though, and eventually it occurred to him where he'd heard this version of the song before.

"The soundtrack from 'Love Actually'." He said out loud without meaning to, pleased to have come up with an explanation while the singer in the background assured them that all they needed was love.

"Pardon?"

"This song, it's from a British movie that takes place during the holidays. The whole soundtrack must be on here." As an afterthought Blake added that he should put that movie on his list of ones to watch before Boxing Day was over. It had been a while since he'd seen it.

Recalling well Blake's 'love' of a certain British actor Bane asked if Tom Hardy was in it, making a mental note of his own. The note being that he was going to make sure his detective didn't get to watch the movie with the badly dressed actor in it anytime soon.

"Alas, no. That would have made it even more epic though." Blake's eyes glazed over a little just thinking about it. "Tom Hardy AND Alan Rickman in one movie. Now that would have made it worth watching all year round."


	13. Now He's Dear

Now He's Dear

Not surprised that Bane had no idea who Alan Rickman was, Blake launched into a brief recap of the roles the man was most well known for, adding that the British actor had never been nominated for an Academy Award which was just one more nail in the coffin that proved that contest was fixed at least half the time. He also gave some thought to informing Bane that if Rickman had decided not to go into acting the man could have made his millions as a phone sex operator, but decided against it since he and Bane were getting along pretty good at the moment and sex seemed to make the other man nervous. Which was weird since Bane was asexual, but oh well, it was Christmas and he was in a good mood.

"Actually, one of the other movies on my list to watch has Rickman in it, and you might actually like it. Of course it might give you ideas too, but at this point in the game that probably doesn't matter. I take it you don't know the 'Die Hard' franchise?"

Bane shook his head.

"Wanna watch it with me after we're done here then? You can always ditch me if you don't like it. It has sorta terrorists and explosions." Blake added in a voice salespeople used to sell a particular feature of a product.

Bane couldn't say the idea of watching some American trash disguised as entertainment appealed to him, but the idea of remaining in Blake's company did so he nodded and accepted the other man's invitation to watch the movie with him.

"Yippee-ki-yay."

"Pardon?"

"You'll see."

The two didn't say much to the other for the rest of the decorating, Blake getting lost in the Christmas music again and Bane enjoying the other man's cheerful singing too much to interrupt him. Finally the only thing left to go on the tree was a star Blake had had to make himself because the angel topper he'd found had been way too gaudy, and Barsad had taken away the professionally made star because that was a possible weapon too in the paranoid bastard's eyes. Thus Blake had been reduced to cutting the star out of white cardboard, and while it certainly wasn't symmetrical or pretty, it would work and that was what mattered.

Unfortunately he was probably going to need to get something to stand on because the tree's top was just a little out of his reach and after his third attempt on tippy toes Blake was willing to admit that he wasn't going to-

Yelping a little as Bane's hands settled on his hips and lifted him up in the air, Blake fumbled with the star, catching it out of reflex before it could tumble to the ground. "A little warning next time!"

"Place your star."

Muttering under his breath about being manhandled, though secretly he rather liked it, Blake did as the man suggested and place the star in place, shifting it around a little until he was sure that it would stay in place for the foreseeable future. "Okay, put me down now."

Doing as asked Bane studied the tree along with Blake, noting the imperfections with the overall layout even though objectively he had to admit that the slightly shoddy workmanship in places gave the whole thing a homey sort of charm.

"We did a good job."

If Blake was pleased than he was pleased, Bane decided, nodding his agreement.

"Okay, movie time now."

Looking forward to the movie a lot less than the tree trimming Bane nonetheless didn't argue, especially since watching the movie meant sitting side by side with Blake on the man's bed in relative darkness, the television and the bedside lamp providing just enough light to illuminate their positions.

It was somewhat disturbing to Bane how in tune he was to the detective who seemed completely oblivious to him at the moment, the mercenary torn between wanting Blake to be aware of him on every level, and wanting the man to tune him out so that whatever this was between them would die from lack of stimulation. Thankfully the movie had a lot of gun play and explosions, the familiar sounds continuously drawing his attention back to the screen as Bane's survival instincts forced him to make sure that all was well and that the noise was simply from the film. The movie was also somewhat interesting, surprisingly enough, the villain intriguing him with a plan that was actually somewhat multilayered and thought out. The fact that the majority of the police were portrayed as small minded morons appealed to him too.

It was when the FBI, who appeared to be even more abrasive and stupid than the regular police, took to the air that it happened, Bane catching the movement out of the corner of his eye so that his arms were already coming up to catch Blake as the man fell into them. Keeping the other man from crashing into his legs with one arm Bane moved the other so that he could place his fingers against the detective's throat, finding the pulse there sure and steady. Just asleep then. It had been a long day for the other man after all, not to mention the blood loss and come down from the adrenaline high he must have experienced when he was attacked earlier. That Blake had remained awake this long was surprising now that he considered it. Even more surprising was the fact that he'd been so caught up in the movie that he hadn't noticed Blake waning, which was a little disconcerting, but he'd been trying to ignore the man's presence and that would have played a part as well.

While Bane thought those thoughts Blake shifted against the arm that supported him, twisting and rolling until he was on his back instead of in the belly flop position, the detective then shifting onto his side as he instinctively moved towards the warmth of Bane's body.

Catching onto what the man wanted Bane brought Blake's body closer, rearranging the detective to suit him so that Blake's head was resting against his shoulder, the rest of the other man's body settled back against him with Bane's arms holding him in place.

On a sound of pleasure Blake nuzzled his cheek against the warmth of Bane's thin shirt, his arms coming up to wrap around his captor's neck as he snuggled in close, fast asleep and sinking deeper into oblivion as the seconds ticked away into minutes.

It was when Bane was about to return Blake to his side of the bed that it happened, the slight change in his hold on Blake causing the detective to burrow closer, his voice only just above a whisper as he said Bane's name, telling the man in question that he knew exactly who held him.

All thoughts of turning Blake loose ended then and there, the noise provided by the still running movie going unnoticed as Bane's eyes closed and his face shifted into content lines as he concentrated solely on the man he cradled so gently in his arms. Who wanted to be held by him.

And so they remained long after the credits rolled out.

)

When he woke up the next morning Blake couldn't remember falling asleep or how he'd come to be tucked in so thoroughly since he for sure hadn't done that. The logical explanation was that he'd nodded off during the movie and Bane had tucked him in, which was embarrassing as hell to think about and so he pointedly didn't. He wasn't going to bring it up, and if God was feeling merciful Bane wouldn't mention it either. Instead he would concentrate on getting ready for the day and doing as much baking as possible since Bane had promised to let him send food to the boys' home. Yup, that was him game plan and he was sticking to it!

Under normal circumstances he would have just provided them with the ingredients so that the boys could make the cookies and such themselves, that was something they'd always done at Christmas time, but the electricity hadn't been reliable since Bane had taken over the city and he figured it was more important that the boys get the treats than have them make the cookies only to find they couldn't bake them because the stoves weren't working.

Once he'd showered and dressed Blake headed downstairs and into the kitchen, going straight for the fridge as he muttered to himself about how hungry he was.

"Hear that, he's hungry. Stroke the fire, break out the silver, wake the china."

"Your sarcasm is so appreciated, Barsad, thank you."

Toasting Blake with his coffee cup Barsad took a sip as he leaned back against the counter, not bothering to comment as he simply smirked around the rim.

"Keep that up and your Christmas dinner will consist of water and crusts of bread." Having retrieved the milk from the fridge Blake went about making himself some cereal, ignoring the way Barsad was watching him since the man was apparently all talked out already. Or just wasn't a morning person, this was the earliest they'd ever been around each other before.

Obviously thinking the same, Barsad asked why he was up so early five minutes later, his coffee finished.

"I have a lot of baking to do. None of which is for you." Blake added, smiling nastily since he was well aware of the fact that Barsad had been gorging himself on his baking more than anyone else in the house. "I got Bane's permission to send food to St. Swithins."

"I know. I'm to arrange for a truck to come here at four to pick it all up. He's going with you to drop it off since you seem to find trouble so easily." Or that was the excuse his leader had given, Barsad wasn't sure he believed it. There had been something different about Bane this morning, something had changed. The way Bane had said the detective's name had given him a pretty good idea who was responsible for whatever had put that strange look in Bane's eyes, but he hadn't figured out the details yet.

"I only have until four?" Making a sound of panic Blake immediately applied himself to finishing his cereal as fast as he could, Barsad not trying to continue the conversation least the detective choke on a mouthful. Bane was supposed to be away for the day, Barsad mused, but he wasn't about to risk the man coming back suddenly to find him giving the detective mouth to mouth resuscitation.

That would not end well for him.

Unaware of Barsad's amusement or what thoughts had caused it, Blake chugged down the last of his juice and then hurried to place his cup, spoon and bowl in the dishwasher. That completed he pulled a pad of paper and retrieved a pen, ready to go. "Okay, so what are my limitations for what I can take?"

Resigned to the fact that he was babysitter and supervisor for the day Barsad pulled out a couple pieces of paper out of his own pocket and handed it over, informing the detective that that was what he was going to be allowed to take to the boys' home in terms of their general food supply. What he wanted to do baked goods wise was up to him since those supplies weren't that important if they ran out. They were mercenaries after all, and they controlled Gotham's food supply anyway.

Jaw dropping as he read down the list Blake couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that they were willing to give him this much stuff. He'd thought he'd have to bribe and plead his case to get half of this. And it was in Barsad's handwriting, so the man knew what he was being given. "Does Bane know you're giving me so much?"

Bane had put him in charge of this, was Barsad's cool response, so the final decision was his. And since the majority of the boys at the home were in their early to late teens they would need plenty of food and he saw no reason to deprive them of it.

"If it weren't for the fact that you'd see it as a punishment I'd kiss you for this."

"I'd shoot you."

"Well that seems a little harsh."

"I stand by my statement."

"Okay. Extra cookies for you it is."

Agreeing that that was a much better alternative Barsad suggested that Blake get going on the baking since he would see to it that the rest of the food was packed up and ready for transportation when Bane arrived with the truck to pick them and everything else up.

"Roger that."

)

As promised Bane returned to the estate ten minutes before four, heading directly for the kitchen with four men he'd chosen to aid in the transportation of the supplies to Blake's former home. He heard one man groan a little under in appreciation as they approached their destination, the smells that were reaching their noses enough to make anyone's mouth water. Even his. But more than the Christmas treats it was Blake Bane most wanted to see, butterflies erupting in his stomach when he entered the kitchen and the detective turned around to greet him, chocolate streaking the skin dangerously close to the man's lips.

Hastily swallowing the piece of chocolate haystack he'd been eating, Barsad immediately sprang into action so to speak, walking over to Bane to suggest that he take the men to the large freezer in the garage and start loading the items he'd earmarked into the truck. Blake was almost done here.

"Go."

Loathe though they were to leave the sweet smelling kitchen, especially empty handed, none of the men had missed the change in their leader's body language when he'd seen the chocolate covered Gotham cop, who'd looked happy to see Bane but had given them the cool eyed stare that said government dog to their knowing eyes. So the rumors were true, they thought to themselves, which meant it was in their best interests to stay as far away from their leader's man as possible.

Having not missed the looks the men were giving Bane's back, or the way Bane had looked at Blake for one fleeting moment before he'd hidden his thoughts away, Barsad paused only long enough to see that the latter had gone completely over Blake's head before leaving the room with the men at his heels.

Bane had finally found someone who interested him sexually and possibly romantically, Barsad thought to himself as they walked down the hallway, proving that The Pit had not killed those drives as they'd all suspected for so long. That the man would feel such desires for a cop of all people, one of the enemy…well at this point Barsad was willing to just be thankful Bane had never felt those things for Talia.

That would have spelled Bane's doom long ago.

Unaware of the thoughts running through his men's heads Bane waited until they were gone and the door closed behind them before he took off his gloves, shoving them into the pockets of his coat. That done he approached Blake, ordering the man to remain still as he reached out and ran his thumb across the stained skin, noting the slight dilation of Blake's eyes at his touch, the way the man's lips opened a little in reaction to the caress.

"Thanks." Aware on some level that that had come out a lot huskier than normal, Blake cleared his throat. "Baking is a messy business, especially when I'm doing it."

"So I see." There were quite a few messes and stacks of dirty bowls and cooking equipment littered all over the counter space, and that was with the dishwasher running in the background.

"Yeah, my Home Ec teacher would not be pleased with me right now." Seeing Bane's look of interest Blake grinned at him impishly. "After one of her cooking classes she'd go around to all the stations to make sure that everything was spick and span. She didn't miss anything either, I can't tell you how many times she'd point something out and very Britishly state 'Heaven sakes, is that a spot? Clean it up!' to whoever was working there."

Nodding his understanding Bane asked how much more time Blake required to finish what he was doing.

"Actually I'm pretty much done here. Everything else is for you and Barsad and whoever else keeps pinching my Christmas cookies when I'm not around." Pause. "I really appreciate you letting me do this. When Barsad told me how much he was going to let me give them I could have kissed him. He said he'd shoot me if I tried." Blake added with a grin, thinking to distill some of the tension that seemed to be flooding the room.

"You were going to kiss him?"

"It's an expression, Bane. I would have said the same to you if you'd been here." Damn, how could he have forgotten Bane's delusions when it came to his supposed interest in Barsad? Stupid, tired brain!

"You are offering to kiss me?"

What? Huh? Oh Shit!

"Well I can't exactly kiss you, Bane, seeing as you never take that mask on. And I don't think you'd appreciate me blowing you a raspberry, though I'm willing to do that."

Ignoring the offer Bane asked why he could not be kissed despite the mask.

"Because you wouldn't feel it. I mean what would be the point otherwise? And why would you want a kiss anyway? Shouldn't you be threatening to shoot me too?"

"Barsad would not have shot you." Though he might have shot Barsad had such a thing occurred between his detective and his second in command. He would have possibly regretted the action in the future, Bane acknowledged silently, though that would depend on a number of variables.

"Well I hope he wouldn't shoot me for such a stupid reason but that's not the point."

"What is the point then?"

"You…you really want me to kiss you to say thanks? Seriously?"


	14. Service To The Test

Service To The Test

Sitting beside Bane as they drove through the mostly empty streets of Gotham, Blake tried to appear as small and insignificant as possible. It wasn't his way to hide from things, not for a long time now, but he didn't know what to do and drawing attention to that would not be a good idea. You never showed a predator that you were afraid unless you wanted to go from being seen as a fellow predator to merely prey. Even if Bane would probably laugh at the idea that they were equal in the predatory department, Blake acknowledged as he tried to tell himself that there was no way Bane would bring the whole kissing thing up while they were surrounded by the man's mercenaries.

Unfortunately the little voice in his head kept reminding him that it would be far from the first time Bane had surprised him if he did. Like the fact that Bane had actually seemed very interesting in getting a kiss back at the house before they were interrupted, preventing Bane from answering his question about whether the man really wanted him to kiss him. And while the interruption had killed the incredibly awkward moment, which he'd very much appreciated at the time, he was now left to wonder if Bane would continue their discussion once they were alone again.

He had no fucking clue what he was going to say or do if that happened.

Technically it wouldn't even count if Bane did request that kiss. The mask meant that the man wouldn't feel it and he wouldn't be kissing skin of any sort if he really thought about it. He'd be kissing metal or leather. That wasn't something to freak out or worry about.

But then that really wasn't what he was freaking out about, Blake reminded himself, forcing himself to be honest. What worried him was whether or not Bane was developing a sexual interest in him that could come into play very shortly. They were bringing the kids a hell of a lot of food…that was a debt Bane could intend to cash in on once they were home. Or later, if there really was an attraction on the other man's part, Bane could offer to give the boys more of what they needed, maybe agree to help other orphanages in the city in exchange for sexual favors.

He'd been in the system, he'd known plenty of other guys who'd done things of a sexual nature in trade for the bare necessities, minor luxuries, or protection against others. He'd seen the price they'd paid even if they refused to acknowledge what it did to them, what it cost them. So long ago he'd decided that as determined as he was to live, that was a line he would never cross. He'd never be anyone's whore in order to survive, he'd end himself first. A quick death was better than a slow one from the inside out.

What scared him though was the knowledge that while he wouldn't cross that line to save himself…he'd cross it to save others. There was very little he wouldn't do to protect the innocents.

When you assume you make an ass of u and me, Blake reminded himself sternly. Bane had probably just been messing with his head or lacked an understanding of how humor was supposed to work. Or it had simply been curiosity on Bane's part, that made the most sense. Of course when people were curious about something, especially people like Bane who seemed to love to learn, they wanted to understand what held their interest. Bane had asked him questions about his sex life before, and idiot that he was he had tried to get it through the man's undeniably thick skull that sex was in fact a very enjoyable thing.

In other words, Blake acknowledged with a slight grimace, he might have unknowingly made his bed and would soon be expected to lie on it. He'd even told Bane that he liked big men, for fuck sakes, and the other man had seen him naked at least a couple of times.

Was this possible kiss going to be a stepping stone for Bane, a dipping the toe into the water so to speak?

For that matter, had Bane ever properly been kissed before?

It was so weird to think about someone Bane's age never having been kissed before, though come to think of it he wasn't sure how old the man was in the first place. Did Bane even know, having been locked away in a prison for most of his life? He didn't know how long Bane had had to wear a mask for either, or when he'd first been exposed to Venom.

He shouldn't want to know so badly, and Blake knew it, but thinking about it took his mind off other things and let him relax a little for the rest of the drive.

The home, when they got there, looked much the same as it always did, which was a relief though not really a surprise. It hadn't been much to look at from the outside even before Bane had taken over the city. All the money they got had gone to the boys and making sure they had what they needed, a philosophy he'd always approved of.

Once they'd pulled into the short driveway and everyone had exited the two trucks Blake turned to Bane, requesting that he be allowed to go to the side door and alert those inside as to what was going on. There was no reason to scare the hell out of the children by suddenly storming the only home they had in a war zone.

"I will come in and get you if necessary." He'd already informed Blake that he wasn't to relay where they were staying or anything the detective had learned during his stay with them. And the detective wouldn't be the only one punished if he disobeyed.

"I won't run or tell them anything. You have my word."

Seeing that they understood each other Blake walked over to the door and began a series of complicated knocks all over the door, a signal that someone from the house was there. The kids had come up with it at the start of the occupation and he'd learned it too as one of their constant visitors.

The door opened slightly once the signal was completed, the boy close to eighteen and as solidly built as his currently sparse diet allowed for. "John!"

His arms full of happy teenager a second later Blake hugged back and then got straight to the point. "Jordan, I need you to get Father Riley now. I've arranged for you guys to get a bunch of food for Christmas and the men behind me have it. They're the bad guys and I am being held hostage as you possibly heard. They won't hurt you, but I don't want them coming inside which means you and the other teens need to come and help. Okay?"

Arms tight around Blake's waist since he'd noticed the men standing in their driveway, Jordan tried and failed to break eye contact with the man everyone in Gotham knew now. The one responsible for everything. Bane.

"Jordan."

"Yeah. Yeah I'll go and tell them."

"Good. Lock the door behind you. Go as quick as you can."

As soon as Jordan was back inside and the door was locked behind him Blake moved to stand guard in front of it, a single sentry that remained where he was until he heard the sound of the locks being undone behind him.

And then there was Father Riley in the doorway, happy tears in his eyes. "John."

"Hey." The man gave great bear hugs, Blake thought as he hugged back just as hard. And he'd really been needing one.

But there wasn't time for a reunion and the longer they stuck around the more likely Bane was to decide they needed to leave before everything had been unloaded. So Blake only allowed himself a moments respite before drawing back, his cop face on as he turned to look at the men he'd come with.

"Bring the food up to the stoop here. Don't linger and don't touch any of the boys or it's the last thing you'll do before I introduce you to a world of hurt."

None of the men moved until Bane told them to do as ordered, the current boss of Gotham moving to stand beside Blake to oversee that end while Barsad supervised the unloading.

The priest joined Blake in standing guard as the boxes of food were brought up and set down on the stoop to be grabbed by the older boys who were too hungry and determined not to appear scared to back down from the task. Riley kept a hand on Blake's shoulder the whole time, giving it comforting squeezes as they watched over the innocents they'd been charged with.

Every once in a while his gaze shifted over to Bane, though the priest said nothing to the mercenary.

Not at all sure what the proper protocol was, but feeling like he should, Blake cleared his throat. "Father Riley, this is Bane, obviously. Bane, this is Father Riley."

He had no liking for religion or their devoted, but he was willing to be courteous to this man who meant so much to Blake. "Father Riley."

"Bane. This is most generous of you. Thank you."

"You have Detective Blake to thank for this, not I, Priest."

Nodding his head, he hadn't doubt that that was the case after all, Father Riley opted to lapse into silence, knowing that if he started asking questions of his former ward or the man who held their city hostage he was likely to arouse the latter's wrath or get John in trouble.

So all three went quiet, watching the proceedings with eagle eyes.

Once the last box had been handed over Blake forced himself to move out from under Father Riley's hand, knowing it was now time to go. "Take care of yourself and them. If I can find a way to help again I will."

So much to say and no time to say it, the priest thought, saying only that he would be praying for him and was so very glad he was still alive.

"Thanks. And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, John." And looking over to meet Bane's eyes once more Riley didn't flinch. "I will pray that understanding and compassion for your fellow man finds you, Mr. Bane, in the coming year."

"Perhaps that's why your God sent Blake to me, Father. And now we must go."

)

Once they were back in the truck and on their way, Bane turned his attention to the man sitting quietly beside him. It had been interesting, seeing the place that his detective had once lived in. The man who'd stood watch with Blake, the priest, had seemed like a good man. He'd watched the teenage boys under his car like a protective father would, had touched Blake the same way on the shoulder. He hadn't even minded that, and normally he hated seeing anyone's hands on the detective.

"This Father Riley was good to you."

"Yeah. He and the Batman made me the man I am."

He didn't like that. "You made yourself."

"No. Or at least that's not the whole truth. Father Riley believed in me, even when I gave him plenty of shit back in the day, and the Batman made me believe that I could use the ugliness inside of me, the anger and the hate, to prevent others from becoming like us."

"You aren't like the Bat."

"I know that. He's way more kick ass and built than I am. Or was." Blake added, deliberately flexing one arm with a smirk on his face before he remembered he didn't want Bane evaluating his body. Back to topic. "It would take years of study to compete with him physically but maybe I'll ask, when he comes back here and hands your asses to you. Maybe he'll teach me now that you forced him back into business."

"Over my dead body."

"Well you keep thinking you can take over our city and it might be."

Looking at the detective who was once again smirking at him, Bane smiled behind the mask, taking the man's statement as a challenge. In fact, now that he thought about it, he liked the idea of training Blake himself. He wanted to be the one who made the other man strong. Who influenced him more than Wayne. He would show his detective real strength and just how strong he was.

Before he could make that offer he noticed that Blake seemed to be paying particular attention to a building up ahead, the expression on the younger man's face suggesting he had memories tied to the no doubt deserted structure.

"You know that building up ahead?"

"Lumière's. It was a French restaurant, really classy and pretentious despite its less than ideal locale. A friend of mine, Jerry, was the maître d there years ago. He adopted this French accent while he was there, to fit in with the ambiance he said, but I knew it was mostly to pick up women. A real lady killer, that was Jerry. He was all candlelight and romance, the women loved him. He was dating a girl he called Babs last time I talked to him at a Halloween party. He was dressed like an aristocrat, and she was a French maid in a very short skirt. I went as Neo from 'The Matrix'."

Curious about the detective and the things he had yet to learn about the other man, Bane asked how Blake had met this Jerry person.

"High school history, he was the type that could make friends with anyone without even trying. Always the center of attention, charming his way out of trouble." Blake grinned at the memories. "We had Mr. Cogsworth for World History and God, what a-he was very old school." He explained, catching himself before he called his old teacher a prick. "Obsessed with punctuality, the guy carried a pocket watch with him wherever he went. I used to think he was as tightly wound as one too. The man hardly ever smiled, and why he became a teacher was beyond me when he couldn't stand how 'uncivilized' we teenagers were. Jerry drove him nuts especially, without even trying. The two made the class very entertaining."

"Did you enjoy history?"

"It could be interesting…but the repetition got more than a little depressing after a while." Blake gave Bane a look that was meant to remind the man that they'd had this conversation already. And that he still thought it would be in the other man's best interest to start looking at what he was doing in comparison to other acts carried out by people intending to 'save' the world.

Understanding, Bane simply stared back until Blake looked away.

)

The Tavern, before the city's occupation, had been a regular cop hangout that had been known for its decent pub grub, quick service, and comfortable surroundings if you ignore the hunting trophies and the large portrait of the owner over the fireplace. Now it was abandoned, the stores and alcohol long stolen and the famous blonde waitresses, triplets, gone, and so it served as temporary HQ for those cops still above ground and fighting to retake the city they'd sworn to serve and protect. It wouldn't be for long, they constantly moved around for safety, but for now it was home.

Out of the swirling snow that followed him in as he entered through the side door, Gordon wore an expression that was part jubilation, part fear and panic. "Blake's alive! We need to go after him!"

Foley raised his eyebrows. "How do you know that?"

"One of the boys from his former home tracked us down. Apparently Blake showed up at the home he grew up at with food for them two hours ago. Bane's holding him hostage, but he somehow convinced that son of a bitch to let him bring the boys food."

"Why would Bane do that?" One of the other cop's piped up, confusion on his face. "He had to know that Blake wouldn't know anything, we moved right after, in case he was alive and they tortured him for info about our location and plans. What would Blake have to trade with?"

A volunteer said what a number of the other cops were thinking. "Maybe this guy's the Beast's type."

Silence descended.

"Look, enough of that Beast bullshit." Gordon ordered, pointing a finger in the man's direction. "He's not some animal, some hideous monster with fangs and a snout, People! You make him stronger and more feared by acting like he's more than a man. Now we need to figure out how to get Blake back now that we know for sure he's still alive!"

"How? We don't know where they are now and even if we did a direct attack wouldn't work. They're better armed, in better shape, and if Bane's keeping him close…nobody goes up against that guy and wins."

The sentiment was echoed by others in the room, the looks they were giving him saying that they thought he was old and crazy to think they'd go off on some wild goose chase that might end with them going up against Bane, especially for a mere detective.

Well fuck them, Gordon thought as he glared back at them, he'd go it alone if he had to. He owed Blake more than one debt, and he had no intention of leaving his man behind.

)

So I figured it was time to explain some references again. Chapter 10 was obviously the wolves attacking 'Belle' and being accompanied by Phillipe, the name of Belle's horse. Chapter 11 was the 'That Hurts!' scene when Belle bandages the Beast's wounds, and Chapter 12 was the mentioning of a character named Le Fou, who was Gaston's henchman and who also appeared as a snowman in the movie. There was also a line from the first song 'it's no wonder that her (his) name means…. Chapter 13 are Mrs. Potts' lines from the song 'Be Our Guest'.


	15. Biceps To Spare

Do you guys want me to keep telling you about the movie references or just let you guys look?

Biceps To Spare

When they arrived back at the house Blake went straight to the kitchen to put together something for dinner, not at all hungry at this point but forcing himself to eat a little since the stronger he was physically the more likely he was to survive a little longer. Not that he would stand a chance against Bane even in peak physical condition. Even with the sort of training Bane and Batman must have undergone to become the ass-kickers they were Blake knew that he still probably wouldn't stand much of a chance unless he got very lucky or they underestimated him too much. A depressing thought, and another hard weight in his stomach since it reminded him that here he was feeling sorry for himself while his hero no doubt suffered a great deal more in the pit Bane had dropped him into. He was being a fucking pussy.

Disgusted with himself Blake ate everything else on his plate and felt a little better once he'd washed it down with his juice, focusing on what he'd accomplished that day so that he could ignore what he couldn't change or imagined could be in his future.

Taking his plate over to the sink Blake sighed over the fact that in his absence someone had come in and cleaned up the large mess he'd made preparing the treats for the kids. That would have given him something to do with the rest of his evening, or at least a good way to do penance for his earlier pity party. He had a roof over his head, clothes on his back, and even though he felt a little nauseated he was still lucky as hell to have a full belly and whole body. A lot of people in Gotham couldn't say the same. Hell, as horrifying a thought as it was, there were billions of people out there who were currently worse off than he was and had been their entire lives.

"I'm going to change and then use the gym."

Leaving Barsad to finish his dessert, man but the mercenary had a sweet tooth, Blake headed back up the stairs and changed into a pair of loose pants, no sweat pants allowed in a mansion apparently, and an undershirt that meant his arms were more than a little cool as he headed back downstairs but he ignored that since he'd be working up a sweat in no time.

The gym he entered wasn't really a gym, or at least not what he thought of as a gym, anyway. Mostly it was set up for the trophy wife, with one of those ball things, very small weights, and a few other pieces of equipment that substituted for walking or riding a bike. He'd have given a lot of money for a punching bag to work over, but this was as much penance as exercise so he was planning to focus on what he didn't like doing as opposed to ways he actually liked sweating his frustration out.

Clearing a space for himself Blake put down a yoga mat just in case, pumped the music, and then got down to business as he started with some light stretching and then moved to the much hated push ups, starting with two hands and then switching over to just one with the other curved behind his back. After that it was the slightly less hated sit ups, and a few other tedious, repetitive actions that did his body good but that he'd rather have skipped if not for the necessity of doing them before moving on to the fun stuff.

Which there really wasn't room for anyway, Blake noted after pausing to take a break to take a bottle of water out of the mini fridge tucked away by the sound system. Still, there was a mirrored section of wall and if he moved some of the equipment off to the side he could make use of that.

Doing precisely that Blake removed his sweaty shirt as well and then stood in front of the mirror, rolling his shoulders as he mentally cursed the fact that he didn't have access to his tapes to reference what he planned to attempt. Back when he'd been a rook he'd gotten his hands on every recording of Batman fighting he could find, piecing them together in an admittedly lame attempt to learn how to fight like his hero. He'd even had them looked over by an ex who was an MMA fighter, to get his opinion, but Micah hadn't been able to steer him in the direction of the correct discipline, saying that the Bat fought like he and his opponents did. A mixture of styles from all over the world, seamlessly blended together in such a way that you'd think it was one discipline. So he'd tried to mimic the video footage and pick up lessons and instruction here and there, eventually giving it up under the weight of his work and lack of money to spend on real training time with professionals.

But he'd watched the videos every once in a while, particularly after a bad day, and he had kept up with the basics since you needed to be able to defend yourself when you patrolled the streets of a city like Gotham.

Focus and watch your body, Blake told himself as he shifted his body into a fighting stance, a fierce look of concentration and determination lighting his dark eyes from within. Every muscle, every movement, smooth and sure, no wasted energy or openings presented. He'd never before had such a body like this to work with, one that had been so obviously enhanced to make him stronger and tougher, a soldier's body. It was time he honed what he'd been given by his bitch enemy even more until he was as dangerous an opponent as he could be against whatever she or one of her lackeys threw at him.

He wasn't a shield tonight. He was a weapon.

)

Silent as a shadow Bane watched the Gotham detective from just inside the doorway, his eyes as glued to the other man's body and form as Blake was. Which said something about the level of concentration Blake was exerting, the mercenary silently acknowledged, since normally the detective was more aware of his surroundings and his presence. He'd been standing there for at least thirty minutes and had yet to be noticed or acknowledged in any way. A dangerous thing, to be so unaware in another predator's territory, but as he would allow no harm to come to his captive he supposed Blake was right to feel safe enough to let his guard down this much.

When he wasn't thinking about that or the surprising beauty of the detective's upper body, which caught him more unaware and caused a deeper response every time, Bane tried to figure out exactly what fighting disciplines the man was trained in. There had been nothing in the file he'd been given to suggest that Blake was trained beyond the pathetic basics required by a police academy, but either the data was faulty or the man had been trained on the side by someone who knew more than one fighting discipline. Years ago, there had been a rustiness earlier that had worn away as Blake had found his groove so to speak, but now…now at times there was poetry in the play of muscles underneath the smooth flesh of Blake's upper body that made him long to touch.

Only the tattoo marred Blake's perfection in his eyes.

Forcing himself not to dwell on it, because as much as he wanted it erased from Blake's skin he wouldn't force the man to allow him to remove it, Bane continued to watch silently until the object of his attention attempted a move he knew well three times, failing to execute it properly every time which resulted in some muttered cursing on Blake's part.

"You're dropping your left arm too soon, among other things."

A jerk and then Blake was turning to face him, chest heaving with exertion, sweat dripping down his body and darkening his hair. "Bane."

In some part of his mind Bane acknowledged the fact that he found Blake's body more beautiful than any work of art or spectacle of nature he'd ever seen, but it was the way his name had just been spoken that had him moving towards the detective without any thought behind it save his need to get closer. It was like the night before, when Blake had said his name in his sleep, curling against him so trustingly. There was just something about the way Blake said it that all but brought him to his knees.

With oddly gentle hands Bane turned Blake so that he was facing the mirror again, wrapping one arm around the smaller man's waist to fit him back against him, their bodies snug against each other. Wrapping fingers around each of Blake's wrists Bane held them as he told the detective to place his right leg against his own so that they were lined up, keeping it there and moving it in time with his.

"Again." Was all Bane said as he moved Blake's fisted hands in the proper sequence, forcing them to move as he wanted them to and then bringing both their legs up to finish off their imaginary opponent, Blake's a little off because of the nudge but it was still better than it had been.

It was Blake's turn to say again this time, the two going through the motion four times with Bane merely holding on the last two times as the detective went through the sequence with confident, powerful concentration and force.

"Well done."

"Thanks." There was no reason for Bane to keep his present grip on him, he had the move down enough to practice it alone, but Bane didn't move and Blake didn't know what to do as he no longer had a task to distract himself from the picture they made in the mirror.

As caught up in the image they made in the glass as Blake, who looked so right somehow pressed up against him, safe with him, Bane searched for something to say and settled on asking where Blake had learned that move from.

"I dated an MMA fighter for a while, he taught me some moves. Oh, MMA stands for Mixed Martial Arts. In case you didn't know." Of all the television shows out there he supposed that would possibly interest someone like Bane, but the man's distain for western culture might have kept him in the dark there.

Not liking that answer Bane frowned behind his mask. "He should have taught you better."

Blake couldn't help it, his lips curved into a secretive little smile that said without words that his ex had made teaching him some other things a higher priority. But all he actually said was that yeah, it was too bad Micah and he hadn't lasted longer. Long distance relationships just didn't work though, and at least they'd parted on good terms.

"If I live through this I'll have to look him up next time he's in Gotham, ask for more lessons." Blake added, thinking that thinking of his ex was a far better idea than obsessing about the fact that Bane's body was still tight against his, the warmth and the man's harsh breathing on his neck making his heart beat in a way he doubted Bane would miss. Unfortunately a voice inside his head said that Bane was more built, lethal, and sexy dangerous than Micah on his best day, but he was working hard to block that voice out.

"He abandoned you to play fight with men who pretend they are great warriors. I will train you until you escape or die. If you survive, you will know more than he could ever teach you."

Eyes widening at the offer Blake couldn't see Bane's angle. "How does it benefit you to teach me?"

Because it didn't, Bane answered that it would be something for him to do while he waited for the country to realize they could not stop him.

"But…if you wanted to spar Barsad would be the more logical-"

"That was not a request."

)

Not seeing any other choice Blake did as ordered, following Bane's instructions until he hit the ground and stayed down, too tired and worn out to care what Bane thought of him. He hadn't worked out this hard in years and his body just plain wasn't used to exercising for more than an hour, two at most. Bane wasn't a monster, but maybe he was a machine under all those muscles, Blake decided as he closed his eyes and ignored the man's command to get up. What was he going to do, after all, send him to his room and lock him in there without any food until he fell into line?

Starving was preferable to moving at the moment. He was going to sleep here and said so when Bane asked him if he was just going to stay there.

"You need to shower and change. You'll get sick."

"Don't care."

Silence, then Blake felt himself being lifted up and into Bane's arms, the gesture surprising him enough to make him open his eyes but not enough to make him care that he was being treated like some Disney princess. Bane wanted to carry him, the mercenary could knock himself out. He hoped the unreasonable bastard put his back out.

"You need a keeper." Bane informed him as they exited the room, his voice sounding harsher than normal.

"No one's ever wanted that job permanently." Blake pointed out dryly, closing his eyes again as focused on how sexy it was to smell both their sweat on Bane's skin. Thinking about his poor, battered body was too depressing, though it should concern him given his present circumstances.

It was on the tip of Bane's tongue to say that he would take that job, could make him strong and see that he reached his true potential, but he knew that that wasn't to be. Even if they escaped Gotham alive Talia would never allow him to keep Blake, especially when the man so proudly wore the symbol of the man who'd stolen her father from her. And even if he was allowed, Blake would have to become someone else. Someone the detective would not want to be.

So instead Bane informed him that they would continue his training in the morning.

"No way in hell."

"Many of my men would kill for the chance to be trained by me personally."

"Then train them." Blake shot back as they reached the stairs leading to the second level. "It can be your Christmas present to them from both of us."

His annoyance coming through loud and clear despite the mask Blake could feel the other man's glare even without looking at him. Nor was he terribly surprised when he was informed that Bane would have killed him long ago for his weakness and smart tongue if he was one of his men, so perhaps it was best that he didn't teach him. Obviously he was too weak in body and mind to handle anything beyond his pathetic government training.

"I wouldn't last a day in your band of merrily insane men because not only do I have a conscience, but I refuse to let anyone think for me." Blake had to admit that wasn't his best comeback, but hoped it hid his reaction to being called weak by Bane. He wasn't weak…he was just a little out of shape, dammit.

"Do you wish to be dropped?"

Since he didn't, and Blake wasn't entirely sure Bane realized that dropping him down a flight of stairs would unquestionably guarantee that he wouldn't be doing anything come morning, Blake used what little strength he had regained to wrap his arms around his tormentor's neck. If he was going down he was damn well taking the man with him or die trying. At least he'd die happy.

But Bane didn't drop him, going suspiciously quiet the rest of the way up and down the hallway towards his room, speaking only to tell him that he needed to get the door for them.

If he was dropped now it wouldn't be too bad, Blake decided after a moment of contemplation, keeping one arm around Bane's thick neck while reaching out with the other to turn the knob, pushing the door open for them before returning said hand to its former resting place, just in case. Rather than be dumped on his floor or his bed Bane headed towards the bathroom, reminding Blake that he'd been told he needed to shower before going to bed to keep from catching a chill.

Okay, that did make some sense, and it was the twenty third tomorrow or today, he had no idea what time it was, so getting sick wasn't an option given his holiday plans, but still…he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't actually drown this time around if he tried to have a shower.

"Just set me down on the main counter, I'll wipe myself down with a wash cloth."

Bane said nothing to indicate that he'd heard the order, but he did maneuver their bodies so that he could set Blake down on the counter with his back against the mirror, releasing him there. While Blake watched in confusion, the man should be leaving him, shouldn't he, Bane ran the tap until the water was warm and then put in the stopper, leaving the sink to fill up a little before stooping down to retrieve one of the wash cloths from a drawer.

"Thanks." Holding out his hand Blake frowned when he wasn't given the towel, Bane turning off the tap instead. Then the towel was being dipped in the water and Bane was turning his attention back to him.

"Stay still."


	16. When We Touched

My wrist is all better now, thanks for the worries on my behalf, Guys! Special shout out to rensei-chan, thanks muchly for your messages!

When We Touched

Blake had been told more than once that he had doe eyes, whatever the hell that meant, but that silly little fact came to mind and stubbornly stayed there as he froze like a deer in headlights at the first touch of the wash cloth over his cheek. It wasn't even Bane's fingers touching him, the warmed piece of terry cloth keeping their flesh from making contact, but that didn't seem to matter to his brain, which was keeping him frozen like a statue as his face was cleaned for him. He couldn't even draw in a breath until the cloth moved to his neck and Bane broke off the eye contact to watch what he was doing.

"I…I don't need your help. I can do it."

"You don't ask for help." Bane commented without stopping or looking away from the pulse beating so frantically before his eyes. "Neither do I."

"Bane."

"Your pulse is erratic, your color up and eyes dilated, Detective. But there's no fear in them, and your body is not braced to defend, to repel my touch. Most of the time you don't fear me at all because you don't fear death and you see that as the most likely outcome. We have that in common as well."

In a snap Blake's fingers were wrapping around Bane's wrist, though they both knew it would take nothing on Bane's part to break the hold. To break him. "I don't want you touching me, got it?"

"But you do." Of that he was now certain. "Your body gives you away, both now and while we were training in the way you reacted to my body coming into contact with yours. It angers and perhaps shames you at times, but you do." Leaning in close Bane noted the hint of fear he could see in those dark, dark eyes. "You fear your reaction and wants, not me. You know I won't rape you, there would be no point in that. Rape is about power, about taking another's body and mind and crushing it, manipulating it for your pleasure and to prove that you are the one in control and more powerful. That their life and body is yours to do with as you please. You already belong to me, Detective Blake, and I don't need to prove that to you. You know."

Sticking his chin out in challenge Blake growled the fact that he did NOT belong to Bane and NEVER would.

For the life of him Bane had no idea why he would like being growled at, but in this case he was glad his mask hid his smile as he spoke as coolly as before. "You know otherwise."

Glaring back defiantly Blake was pissed that the man was right about his body's stupid, incredibly wrong reactions to Bane, and infuriated at the idea that it was obvious and had led Bane to think he could continue to touch him as he liked without resistance. No one owned him, not Bane or his hormones. Bane might control Gotham and the men running his city into the ground, but he'd go to his grave laughing before he'd let Bane think that he'd just roll over and submit.

Which was why his next words weren't the most advisable, but certainly well aimed.

Leaning in even closer so that his lips were almost on Bane's mask, Blake stared into Bane's eyes when he spoke in an oh so sweet and knowing purr. "Yours isn't the brand I wear, Bane. You'd be smart to remember that too."

It was a direct hit, Bane knowing instantly that Blake was referring to the mark of The Bat that his detective wore so proudly on his skin. The implication was clear as well. Blake was willing to be claimed by Wayne, but not by him.

"Saying that…was a mistake."

The shrieking sound Blake made would embarrass the hell out of him later, though not so much at the time as Bane picked him up, threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's hold, and started carrying him out of the bathroom and back towards the bedroom. Blake would also be embarrassed by the fact that his struggling and attempts to knee and boot Bane's chest, as well as the beating of his fists on Bane's back, did nothing but cause him pain while the mercenary paused only to turn on the bedroom lights before walking over to the bed and dumping Blake on it.

The manhandling and wrestling for control of the situation ended before it had really begun, Bane pinning Blake's wrists in line with the struggling cop's head, the man's massive body insuring that the rest of Blake's body remained right where he wanted it even as the smaller man attempted to buck him off, which did nothing but encourage him to keep the detective right where he was.

Squirming like a fish on a hook and getting nowhere, Blake jerked up and in desperation wrapped his legs as tightly around Bane's waist as he could and squeezed, trying to make the hold as crushing as possible since he'd seen a girl kill a guy that way in a Bond movie. And though it quickly became apparent that it wasn't having any effect, he must be doing it wrong, Blake told himself that so long as Bane's hands were occupied with his there was only so much Bane could do to him like this.

And that as soon as Bane let go he would find a way to break free or get his neck snapped trying.

The fire in Blake's eyes didn't deter him, no, it just made Bane that much more determined to get it into the man's thick head who he belonged to. That he would not allow anyone else to lay claim to his captive and would kill anyone who tried to take Blake away from him. He would not leave this room until Blake knew that in every bone of his body and admitted it outloud.

Seeing the way he was being watched and the absolute certainty in Bane's eyes as to how this would go down Blake had to concede that he was helpless to do anything physical until he was given an opening, which was why he settled for proving that he really had been born and raised on the big, bad streets of Gotham by calling Bane a lot of very bad names in between cursing him to hell and back with a great deal of creative fluency.

Impressed, there had even been some blasphemies in there that he'd never heard before, Bane had to smile a little behind his mask again. "Am I going to need to wash your mouth out, Detective?"

"Put anything in my mouth and I'll bite it off, Assehole."

It took a moment for Bane to get what Blake was threatening, the implication of it broadsiding him for several heartbeats as he imagined it, having no idea what that would be like but suddenly very interested in finding out. That had been a type of currency in prison so to speak, and the recipients had seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. There had also been many who'd expressed interest in him performing that act on them, something about his mouth being made for it, but by the time he'd been subjected to the general populace he'd been too strong for most, and one of his teachers too feared to risk his wrath by forcing him that way. He'd been offered the act in return for his protection or mercy before, but had never been tempted by any sexual act they'd offered him. But if it were Blake…

Not liking the silent stillness of contemplation that had come over Bane, his gut said it was not good, Blake yelled at Bane to get the hell off him NOW before things really got ugly.

)

What he'd had in mind was to scare Blake a little by using the bed, using it to convey the absolute ease with which he could dominate the cop despite the little fool's delusions to the contrary. And yes, if Bane was being honest with himself, he'd craved more skin to skin contact, the earlier training session having ignited that particular need to a painful degree. That had been unexpected, but somewhat explainable given the endorphin rush from working out even against an inferior opponent, but the mercenary had not anticipated what it would be like to have Blake squirm and buck up against him like this, the sensations fogging up his brain and making his body react in ways that called to the animal in him and pushed the man aside. He was struggling just to breath as Blake started struggling harder under him, his heart pounding in his chest as his body demanding more contact, more pleasure unlike any he'd known before.

It stunned Bane beyond words when he belatedly realized that he was hard and aroused. He desired Blake sexually to that degree? That he would react like any normal man instead of the weapon he'd honed himself into being…

Feeling it too Blake's eyes went as wide as they could go before they narrowed dangerously, the detective going absolutely still as he realized that he not only needed to save his strength, but that Bane was the sort who'd enjoy the fight for dominance as much as he normally would and that struggling would only be seen encouragement.

Bane didn't like this turn of events one little bit, especially with the beast inside him demanding he claim what was his and to hell with the consequences. Jerking Blake's wrists together Bane held them with one hand, the other coming down to yank one of Blake's legs down and off of him, moving his hand from there to spread and dig his fingers into Blake's ass, as he ground their hips together deliberately, shifting so that their erections were better lined up because what was functioning brain wise said that his nerve endings had told him that that was what had felt best.

Mouth opening in shock Blake allowed one gasp to escape his lips before he bit down hard on his bottom lip to stifle any further reaction as Bane's body surged back and forth against his, his body reacting to the stimulus even as he cursed and tried to throw off the man's hold and rhythm again because his mind told him to even as his body screamed for more…and then just gave out.

The workout from earlier had his strength leaving him quickly as his last wind gave out, his body giving up the fight even as his mind struggled to make his leaden limbs move. But in his head he knew he was done, that there was nothing he could do to stop this from happening if this was what Bane wanted. There were even treacherous voices inside his head that told him that this was what he wanted, that he'd never find a man who so perfectly fit every physical requirement in a lover, who smelled and felt so very right and could completely dominate him without-

And then Bane moaned.

Surprise had Blake sluggishly turning his attention to concentrate on Bane's face instead of the body holding his captive, becoming aware of the labored breathing through the mask, the tightness of Bane's features, but more importantly the look in the mercenary's eyes as their gazes met and held.

They weren't the eyes of a rapist or man in control, there was very little control in Bane's eyes as far as Blake could see. In those steel blue eyes he saw need and desperation, but more than that he saw a complete and total lack of understanding as to what he was doing or what he wanted. This was completely new to Bane, he was acting purely on instinct and this-this wasn't about owning or breaking him at all, Blake realized in a sudden flash of insight. That was why Bane wasn't crossing more lines than this and had sounded like he meant it earlier, when he'd talked about lines he had no interest in crossing.

Bane didn't want to rape him…he just wanted him and didn't know what the hell to do about it.

"Bane…."

"What do I do?" Was his harsh demand before Blake could say anymore, Bane's voice completely wrecked and barely understandable. "How do I make it stop? Tell me!"

Using the sort of authoritative voice he thought Bane would respond best to Blake told him that he needed to calm down. That if he wanted it to stop Bane needed to gain control of himself again. He wasn't the mindless animal they'd tried to make him, he was a man and his body was his to command. Everyone knew what amazing control he had, how in charge he always was, he needed to find his center, his calm again so that he could look at the situation rationally. Bane should start with his breathing, that would help.

Desperate for control, he didn't know how to function without it, Bane did as he'd been told, concentrating on just his breathing, forcing the air in and out of his lungs at rhythmic intervals. It didn't help the ache, the need that thrummed through his veins like ferocious, starving beasts, but it did help a little, reminding him of his mental exercises.

And as his mind quieted a little more Bane became aware of the body beneath his in another way, a more intellectual way that said he'd been forcing his sexual interest on Blake minutes before and that the detective's movements against him hadn't been encouragement, but the other man fighting him and his intent.

Letting go of Blake's wrists Bane sat up, looking down at the bruises already forming to mar the other man's skin. "I apologize."

)

If his body had been working at the moment Blake knew this would have been the time to lash out physically, but even if he hadn't been feeling like an overcooked noodle Blake wouldn't have had the heart to do it. This was obviously one of the few lines Bane had ever drawn in the sand so to speak, and the mercenary was obviously shaken to the core that he'd stepped over the line for those few minutes. He understood what it was to have your foundation shook out of nowhere, leaving you scrambling to make sense of things while your brain was too confused to do so.

"It's okay, Bane." Blake found himself saying, actually wishing that he had the strength to reach out to stroke and comfort. "Hormones get the best of us sometimes. You didn't cross the line, you toed it."

What the hell am I saying, Blake wondered as he watched Bane process his words, his brilliant mind no doubt going a mile a minute as he weighed the validity of them. He shouldn't be comforting Bane or justifying what the man had almost done, he should be trying to use it as leverage, or to inflict psychological damage. He'd just been thrown on a bed, manhandled and rutted against while he-oh.

"But I would have crossed it." Bane would not lie, especially with the fire still coursing through him, aching for the body lying so still beneath him as if in offering. But he knew the reason Blake wasn't fighting him was physical exhaustion, not surrender, and the thought of him taking advantage of that fact was abhorrent to him. He had seen what was done to Talia's mother while he protected her daughter…the thought that he could become like those animals was a fate worse than death in his mind.

"No. You wouldn't have."

Having looked away, unable to meet Blake's gaze, Bane turned back to look at him, demanding to know why he would think that, grasping at the slim hope like a lifeline.

"Because I wasn't telling you no."

Eyes widening, recognizing the truth in that statement, Bane stared dumbly at Blake, silently beseeching him to explain.

"If I'd been fighting you with words as well as actions you would have stopped." Had he known that when he'd tossed aside his words, telling himself that struggling under the man was his only weapon, Blake asked himself ruthlessly. Would he have lied to himself and pretended to believe that returned violence would be what Bane would understand despite knowing the power Bane placed in words? God…had he wanted Bane to take him that way so that he could tell himself he'd been a victim when really he'd wanted it? Wanted Bane to fuck him, to hold him down and take him again and again until they both lost consciousness.

Now it was Blake's turn to hide from Bane, closing his eyes as self-loathing washed over him.

Lifting a hand without thinking Bane hesitated for a moment and then gently leaned forward to carefully brush back the detective's hair, so very grateful when Blake didn't shudder at the touch of his paw like hand. Talia's mother had stroked his head on occasion, it had been a gentle caress that had always made him feel better.

And he understood why Blake wasn't throwing off his touch or looking at him. His captive was as conflicted as he about the reactions they inspired in each other.

"Stockholm Syndrome?" Bane offered as the silence continued between them, thinking to give the fragile bird under his stroking hand a way out.

"No. If that were the case I wouldn't be conflicted about this. I still think you're completely off your rocker when it comes to your plans from Gotham and I'd stop you if I could." Was Blake's eventual response, dark humor in his voice as he opened his eyes, finally meeting Bane's gaze once more. "Why? Why me? You said yourself you aren't interested in sex, and every bit of data we collected says you're asexual. So why now…?"

Considering the question there was really only one answer that made sense to Bane.

"There is only one you in this world; and you are unlike anyone I have ever met before. You're special."

Blake had no idea what to say to that so he didn't, but in his mind…all he could think was how he'd been waiting for decades to have someone say something along those lines to him.


	17. Isn't He Dreamy

Isn't He Dreamy

Having a pretty good understanding of the detective moral code, as well as being quite adapt at reading body and facial cues, Bane was aware that his words had made Blake happy even though the other man was obviously trying and mostly succeeding in hiding that fact. He wanted to make Blake happy, make him smile and show his dimples and eye crinkles, Bane thought but didn't say. He didn't want Blake to have a reason to hide those emotions from him. Because while he was still conflicted and confused about a lot of things, namely the emotions and urges his detective inspired in him, Bane was fairly sure that in the end he was a lot less conflicted than Blake about their reactions to each other. Wanting someone the way he wanted Blake was foreign to him, but he didn't feel guilt over the desire or shame. If the situation they'd found themselves in earlier had been reversed he would have had no regrets if the end result had been sexual relations.

The same could not be said for the man under him, who was looking everywhere but at him again.

Getting off Blake and then the bed Bane stood beside it, careful to keep his voice controlled and calm as he continued to exert a huge amount of mental strength to ignore his body's urgings. "You need to finish washing up and change."

"I will. Shortly." Blake tacked on, aware that he wasn't up to moving at the moment.

Understanding that he was doing more harm than good by remaining, Bane nodded his head and forced himself to say good night and then turn to leave, getting almost to the door before he heard Blake's good night in turn. Giving a slight nod so that Blake would know he'd heard him Bane let himself out of the room and closed the door behind him, heading straight to the room he'd commandeered for himself.

Stripping out of his sweaty clothes as soon as he'd closed his door behind him Bane let them fall to the floor without a thought, which was totally out of character for him and an obvious demonstration of just how occupied his mind currently was with far more important thoughts.

Naked he headed into the master bathroom, his destination the shower to wash away the sweat that still clung to his body and would hopefully relax his tense, painfully tight body. Before he opened the door he removed his mask, setting it off to the side before entering the fogged glass enclosure as he continued to consciously control his breathing.

And the hot water did take care of the first problem but not the last, his body refusing to calm or accept the fact that it would not be satisfied. The fact that he was still rock hard utterly perplexed Bane, especially when that particular part of his anatomy had never been a problem for him before. Logically Bane knew that he could switch the water over to cold, and that that might help, but he'd gotten used to having hot water every night and it was a luxury he'd been enjoying, especially knowing the end could come sooner as opposed to later. He'd been denied Blake, hot water was a weak consolation.

It was while he glared down at the body that refused to listen to him, a rare thing since he'd gotten over the need for Venom, that Bane realized that there was something else he could be doing that might help his present problem. He'd never before…but there wasn't a whole lot of privacy in prison or in many of the other places he'd been to over the years.

Eyes trailing over to all the bottles that he'd left stacked and unused in their built in shelves, Bane left his spot under the showerhead to go through the contents until he came to a bottle that had made him scoff when he'd come across it the first time given how many other places he'd found this particular product in the bedroom too. Now having the lubricant in the shower as well was very appreciated, Bane acknowledged as he clicked open the lid to pour some of the contents onto his hand.

It was surprisingly slippery.

Keeping his back to the hot spray of the shower so that the stuff wouldn't be washed off his hands Bane carefully took himself in hand and testingly moved his fingers up and down, eyes widening at the sensations that followed the action.

Clumsy at first, and wincing a few times when his grip was off or too tight, Bane slowly got the hang of it, the fact that he was still wishing he was with Blake leading his mind to picture what it would be like if the other man was in the shower with him now. He knew what the detective looked like naked and wet after all, and the mental images made what he was doing feel so much better and electric. Connecting the dots Bane deliberately thought about what it felt like to have Blake squirming under him, how much he wanted to know what it felt like to have his body stroked by Blake, imagining the sounds and expressions the other man would make when he touched him in return if Blake were to accept him that way.

Those thoughts, combined with a growing awareness of how he liked to be touched and what felt really good, Bane soon got closer and closer to the orgasm he sought, gasps and low moans escaping his dry lips as his hips jerked and fingers grew increasingly clumsy. Breathing Blake's name like a prayer Bane's mind whirled at the thought that the pleasure would be even greater if Blake were actually with him, the idea as seductive as it was terrifying.

When he did come it was sheer luck that he didn't end up slipping and falling into the glass or the floor, the new sensations and the power of it completely overwhelming him so that all Bane could do was stumble around before pressing his back against a wall, sliding down it to sit on the wet floor. Tipping his head back with his eyes closed, Bane knew nothing but the fact that he hadn't known that his own body could give him such pleasure.

How long he sat there Bane didn't know, the water growing cold though he hardly felt it at all. It was the familiar twinges in his head that warned him he needed to get up and out of the shower that got him moving, Bane getting to his feet on relatively steady feet then.

Putting on his mask before he toweled off Bane made short work of removing the majority of water from his body and then headed back into the bedroom and got dressed in clothes suited for sleeping in before slipping into bed.

Brain functioning relatively well at this point Bane settled against his headboard and reaching out retrieved Osito from the bedside table and held the stuffed animal in front of him, his eyes moving over the places where Blake had sewn the bear back together for him.

"What should I do, Old Friend?" He asked the bear.

Naturally Osito didn't answer, but by the time he finally returned the bear to its usual resting place Bane had some idea of what he was going to have to do to make Blake his.

)

Later that night Blake knew he was dreaming for a number of reasons. The biggest one was the fact that the clothes he was currently wearing were not something he would ever choose to wear, though the setting of the dream was another big indicator as far as he was concerned. He was in a ballroom that was one elegant step away from being horribly gaudy due to the cherubs on the ceiling and all the fancy gold molding on the walls. The ceiling to floor windows on one side made all the difference though, Blake appreciating the view as he tried to ignore the fact that he was wearing a golden yellow shirt that was distressingly similar to what he'd seen musketeers wear in the various 'Three Musketeers' movies. The breeches he could live with, but the shirt…

At least he was alone in the ballroom, with only the candelabras and chandeliers for company. Or so Blake thought to himself just before his dreamscape decided to change that fact, which just figured to his way of thinking. Though the sight before him made him a lot less self-conscious about what he was wearing, Blake thought to himself as he grinned, unable not to as he took in the getup his mind had come up with for Bane to wear.

Bane was wearing an outfit more suited to a Victorian lord or another old school French guy than a mercenary. The gold waistcoat, white dress shirt, blue tailcoat and black pants were so at odds with the face mask and Bane's body type that only someone as innately sexy as the current bane of his existence, no pun intended, could pull it off. Not to mention the fact that the articles of clothing looked tailored to the other man's body, bringing all those muscles in Bane's thighs to mouth-watering definition.

"What is this place?"

"A ballroom, I'm guessing. A really old one." Blake replied in answer to Bane's question as the mercenary came to a stop in front of him. "All it needs is some music and a huge crowd of people dancing, sipping champagne, and gossiping about their neighbors."

Once again on cue music began to play, the tune not one Blake recognized though that wasn't saying much. He did know that some of the melody was piano and violin, but that was about it.

"Do you enjoy dancing?"

Shrugging his shoulders Blake smiled ruefully as he acknowledged that he'd been fairly decent years ago, but hadn't done any formal dancing in years. Work had kept him busy.

When he was asked whether he'd ever danced before Bane shook his head, stating he'd never had a reason to learn or attempt that particular activity. Was it enjoyable enough that Blake regretted the lack of time he had for such things?

"A little, maybe." And because it was only a dream Blake reached out and grasping Bane's one hand brought it up and set it on the small of his back. Then he took Bane's other hand in his and lifted it up to the proper level. "Just relax and follow me. I'll lead."

There was surprise in Bane's eyes, but he nodded in agreement and made no effort to pull away.

They were awkward at first, Bane obviously not used to being led and not the easiest person to move unless he knew to on top of that. Luckily the mercenary was also a quick study, Blake found, the other man graceful and quick on his feet by nature with Bane picking up the repetition of Blake's movements and how he was supposed to move in relation to what the other man was doing so fast that Blake asked if Bane was sure that he'd never done this before.

"No. You're the only one I'd want to dance with."

Feeling his ears go red, damn them, Blake couldn't seem to stop himself from smiling just a little, nor did he complain when Bane took over the leading, doubting that Bane even knew he was doing so. Instinct was a powerful thing after all. Instead he simply laid his head on Bane's shoulder, trusting that he was safe and in good hands as they seemed to fly around the room as they danced in perfect unison.

As if by magic the candlelight dimmed around them as they danced, lending added intimacy to the minutes as they ticked by without much notice, the two men lost in the music and each other.

)

In the morning Blake opted to skip breakfast, his appetite below zero at the moment as he bundled up and headed outside with a bag of bird seed he'd discovered in one of the pantries the day before. Barsad was with him of course, a silent shadow, but Blake simply ignored the other man's presence and headed into the snow until he came to a grouping of young trees that provided homes and branches for the birds to sit on. Taking a seat in the snow himself Blake scattered some seed onto the snow around him and then went very still, watching the birds begin to fly down from the trees to eat the seeds furthest from the possible human threat.

He'd always loved watching and feeding birds, had often wished he was one as a small child so that he could just fly away and leave behind all the bad stuff in his life. With his first name he'd taken plenty of crap for his affinity for the small creatures, but that hadn't stopped him from seeking them out anyway.

Today they didn't bring him their usual peace though, which really didn't surprise Blake all that much. Even his sleep deprived mind was working well enough to know that it was likely going to be a long while before he felt steady and remotely close to calm after the night he'd had.

If he'd just dreamed about having sex with Bane he could have brushed that off as simple hormones. Better that he dream about it than actually sleep with his captor after all, and he was a guy and was therefore genetically wired to think about sex more than most women would deem strictly necessary. As long as he didn't actually jump the guy Blake figured he'd earned the right to fantasize a little in compensation for keeping his dick in his pants. So yeah, sex dreams were okay, but there had been nothing sexual about his dream about Bane and that, quite frankly, scared the fuck out of him. He was not a romantic guy, never had been really. If he did something romantic it was because it would benefit him and make the other guy happy too and hopefully lead to lots of sex.

There had been no sex.

He'd actually had a dream straight out of a stupid chick flick about a guy he was interested in and there'd been no sex! It had been all romance and dancing and…and…feelings!

Groaning Blake dropped his face into his hands, which wasn't a good thing since he still had birdseed in them which caused him to sputter, curse, and then chuck the seed onto the ground, startling away all the birds he'd been trying to lure towards him in the first place.

"You didn't even notice one had landed on your knee."

"Not really in a talking mood, Barsad."

Remaining where he was, a couple meters away, Barsad watched his potential prey's body language for signals and tells. "Bane wasn't in a talking mood either, this morning. You need to step lightly there, if you wish to live to the New Year."

"Why would you care whether I live to that point or not?"

"Your death would mean nothing to me." Barsad agreed, not about to lie. "But your influence on Bane matters a great deal to me…and others. If you think to use that influence to use him I will see you dead myself."

Blake's chuckle was not a happy sound. "I don't doubt it."

They both went quite for several minutes, with Blake going back to feeding the birds while Barsad watched him and pondered the dilemma he faced. On the one hand he might be slipping the detective a metaphorical weapon with his words, the knowledge one that could both harm Bane or perhaps help the man he'd devoted his own life to. He had spent plenty of time with Detective Robin John Blake now, was fairly confident he had an understanding of the man's character and what drove the cop's thoughts and actions. And yesterday had cemented a worry in his mind that had weighed him down ever since and had kept him up all night in silent contemplation.

"I can hear you thinking from here. If you want to threaten me some more go ahead. I won't tell him."

Normally he would have pointed out that Bane would take his word over the detective's, but Barsad was beginning to think that would not be the case for much longer the way things were going. And it was that thought that decided things for him, because in his gut Barsad knew that some things were unavoidably at this point.

Walking over to Blake's side Barsad silently took a seat beside the other man, meeting Blake's gaze squarely when it was aimed in his direction.

"If you go to his bed do so without ulterior motive."

Eyes widening at the statement Blake had to swallow hard before he could ask in a conversational tone of voice what Barsad meant by that.

"In many ways Bane's knowledge of the world and the people that populate it far exceeds your own, but when it comes to sex and love he understands very little. In that area you know far more and that is knowledge we both know you could use against him if you chose." Reading the detective's interpretation of his words easily in the fire that flamed in the man's brown eyes Barsad raised a hand in a 'simmer down' gesture. "I don't believe you would whore yourself for your own benefit…but for others would perhaps, I think, be another story. For the boys from your orphanage or the innocents of this damned city…" Barsad trailed off, seeing what he had expected on the detective's face. "If you show him pleasure and a false love, then take it away or let him see the truth…he will become the monster everyone thinks he is. You bring out the man in him…and you will kill that man and leave only the beast if you, like so many others, use the promise of heaven to push him further into hell."

Deliberately being flippant to hide his shock and reaction to Barsad's words, Blake smirked and stated that he got the man's point. Sleeping with Bane would be bad, message received.

"That's not what I said, and you know it."

Blake glared. "So you're saying you'd be fine with him sleeping with me in general? Me, the enemy?"

"You are not my enemy…yet." Rising to his feet Barsad looked down at Blake, who was obviously not pleased to have to crane his neck back to meet his eyes. "And if it's the thought of what your hero would say if you did take Bane as your lover…well he has slept and given his loyalty to much worse. Your end, unless one of your Christmas miracles goes into effect, will be soon if this city is not somehow saved, Detective. You'd be wise to remember that as well."


	18. Afraid I've Been Thinking

Afraid I've Been Thinking

Sitting in the library hours later with his feet propped up on an ottoman and one of his assigned books in his hands, Blake tried and failed to pay attention to what he was trying to read. As he'd been trying and failing to think of something other than Bane for hours now Blake gave up on the reading just as he'd given up on the bird feeding, snowman building, re-checking for the third time that he had everything for his planned Christmas feast, and making a few new ornaments to hang on his sad tree.

"The man is ruining and fucking up my life even when he's not around."

Groaning at the thought Blake slumped further in the deep chair he was sitting on, moving his feet from on top of the ottoman to underneath it as he tipped it back and forth while he mulled over, for at least the hundredth time, what Barsad had said to him before. And because he didn't want to think about the fact that the jerk had actually encouraged him to have sex with Bane, so long as it was for the right reasons, Blake focused on the other, actually important info he'd gotten.

To his knowledge Bruce Wayne was straight. There had been a few rumors to the contrary over the years but he'd shrugged those off as typical tabloid crap, and having met the man a handful of times he was willing to bet a decent amount of cash that his hero was heterosexual. That didn't mean the man hadn't experimented back in the day, it happened, but assuming it hadn't odds were Barsad had been talking about a woman when he'd said that Wayne had slept with someone worse than Bane.

In all honesty his first thought had been that Barsad was referring to the cat burglar he'd arrested just before Gotham had been taken over, Selina Kyle, but once he'd got his head on a little straighter he'd discarded that idea fairly quickly. He'd looked over her file, knew her priors and M.O.s, and while she'd shown a willingness to be very bad when the job called for it she was nowhere in Bane's league. And he'd bet every last dollar he'd had in the bank before Gotham had been taken that she'd been honest when she'd told him how scared she was of Bane. Ergo she couldn't be the woman Barsad meant, though he still had a feeling there'd been something between Wayne and the sassy Selina. But barring that the only really, really evil woman he knew existed within Bane's world was whoever Bane was working for. Since Barsad also worked for her he would certainly know just which of the two was worse, and since this woman was likely al Ghul's daughter, she and Wayne would have met up during the latter's training with the League of Shadows.

Which meant ouch. Wayne had really bad luck when it came to women, it had to be said.

But on the A side, if he and Wayne ever got out of their respective prisons he'd be able to tell the other man who had the remote, which would hopefully make up for the fact that he was apparently incapable of not wanting to get Bane naked and inside his ass.

Cursing under his breath as he realized where his thoughts were going, again, Blake kicked out at the ottoman, causing it to skid across the floor before it tipped over with an audible thud.

Glaring at it for a few minutes, he really wanted to break it and a number of things in the room to express just how frustrated and angry he was at the world, Blake finally got out of the chair and went over to pick the piece of furniture up. This was Bane's favorite room in the house after all and he did not want to deal with the fallout if he wrecked anything right now. They'd start fighting and he'd be tearing the man's clothes off in seconds.

Coming to a stop in front of the ottoman Blake crouched down and then frowned, his head cocking to the side as he took in the fact that there was a black box attached to the underside of the footrest, an off and on switch visible, as well as what appeared to be…settings?

Too annoyed to worry about the possibility that he was about to blow himself up or something Blake switched it on, jumping back a little when the ottoman began to move a little, a humming noise filling the air.

"What the…" Inspiration dawning Blake set it on its legs again, the hand he pressed to the top finally cluing him in to the fact that the piece of furniture had a built in foot massager. Pleased to have figured it out Blake reached underneath and tested the various settings, laughing when the highest setting had the footrest moving around without feet to hold it in place, the placement of the tassels and the weird noises it was making it sorta reminding him of a dog for some reason.

Shaking his head in amusement Blake turned it off and decided, for shits and giggles, that he'd spend the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out how to turn the thing on while Bane was using it and try and scare the hell out of the man.

If it didn't get him killed it would be fucking hilarious.

Leaving it for now though, he felt like he had to keep moving to keep his thoughts going, Blake decided to head for the gym. Surprisingly his body had only been a little sore when he'd woken up, but then he kept forgetting the fringe benefits exposure to Venom offered. The way it had fixed his bullet wound, the gash on his arm that didn't even require painkillers, yeah, he was handling pain after the fact very well these days.

That made perfect sense to him, since Blake couldn't imagine a pain much worse than Venom.

Except maybe childbirth, the detective corrected as he left the room with a smile still on his face. To hear women talk that might just be worse.

)

It was late when Bane returned to the house, strain showing around his eyes as he relayed the day's news to Barsad before asking about Blake, forcing himself to put work first. Unfortunately Barsad had very little to tell him, other than the fact that their captive had seemed unable to settle into any one task the entire day. Currently the man was in his room, and had asked Barsad to communicate to Bane that he'd already had his work out, thank you very much, and had no interest in being dragged out of his bed for a sparring lesson.

Bane expected Barsad to show at least a little surprise over the fact that he wished to train the detective, but then he realized that of course the news wouldn't surprise his right hand man. Very little got by Barsad, and aside from Talia no one knew him better.

Reports given Bane excused himself to go check on their charge himself, feeling Barsad's eyes on his back for longer than was necessary before the other mercenary left the main hallway, perhaps to eat more of the baked goods the man couldn't seem to stay away from.

The amusement of that eased some of the strain, Bane's mood slightly lighter as he finished climbing the stairs and walking down the hallway that led to Blake's room. When he knocked at the detective's door there was no answer, but his keen hearing picked up the sound of feet hitting the floor and coming towards him, the door opening moments later.

"Hey-." The greeting dying off Bane watched as color drained from Blake's face, the man making gagging noises as he stumbled back with one hand over his mouth and nose and the other held up in a gesture that made it clear Bane wasn't to come any closer.

Confusion and blinding hurt, a pain unlike any he'd felt before speared through Bane, gutting him as he stumbled back a little too, the man's rejection of him so absolute and physical. He'd known that Blake was angry, upset, hated the reactions they inspired in each other…but for his presence alone to make Blake physically ill…

"Not you."

It took several moments for Bane to realize that Blake had said something, moments more before he cautiously asked Blake if he'd repeat that.

"Not you. Smell." Was apparently the best Blake could get out as he continued to put distance between them, practically on the other side of the room before he moved his hand away from his face to call out a comprehensible reply. "The perfume on you. It makes me nauseated."

Heart-stopping relief was followed quickly by confusion, especially since he was most certainly not wearing-oh. Hands going up to the scarf that Talia had given him a couple hours ago, unwrapping it from her own neck to give to him to keep him warm, Bane acknowledged that her perfume had clung to the garment. He was so used to her scent that he'd thought nothing of it, finding it comforting in its familiarity.

As scent was the sense most tied to memory Bane assumed that Blake had a bad one associated with the scent, it occurring to him that perhaps Blake had had a run in with Talia previously that he didn't know about. But no, she would have mentioned it. Either way it was a simple matter for him to unwind the scarf from around his neck, Bane setting it down outside the door before cautiously entering the room, his eyes on Blake as he waited for some sign that he wasn't to get closer.

"It was from the scarf?" Blake asked, still standing on the other side of the room.

Bane nodded, hoping that the scent hadn't clung noticeably to his own clothes or skin.

Apparently thinking along the same lines Blake asked him to give him a moment and then the detective was disappearing into the bathroom, returning a minute later with an amber colored bottle in his hand. While Bane watched the other man approached him cautiously, stopping when he was in arm's length of him. Then Blake was telling him to hold still, Bane blinking in surprise when he realized Blake intended to squirt something on him. But he allowed his throat and the back of his neck to be given a quick dose, eyes widening slightly as he recognized the scent as one Blake's skin carried at times.

And then Blake was moving in close to get a whiff, the detective making a satisfied, appreciative sound. "The little prick might have been a waste of air and police time, but he had damn good taste in cologne. Sorry about that." He tacked on, Blake's ears going that attractive red before their owner took a step back to put more space between them.

It took Bane actual effort to distract himself from the pleasure of smelling Blake on his own skin, the scent seductive and spicy, but Bane finally got his head on straight enough that he could ask why Blake had such a strong reaction to the perfume on the scarf.

The face Blake made spoke volumes. "It's called 'Rosa', with the catch phrase 'Omni rosae spina'. I'm guessing you know what that means?"

"To every rose, a thorn."

"Yeah. It comes in this fancy bottle that's topper is like an open rose, the base green with these engraved thorns all around it. The idea being some crap about the perfume smelling like roses with the bite of thorns. Didn't get the appeal, but anyway…one of the worst homicides I ever worked involved that crap. A double homicide when I was a uniform."

"It pains you to speak of it?"

"Pains me? No. Not really. What I learned about the vics didn't make me inclined to feel any sorrier for them than the woman who killed them. What happened was that this woman, Mrs. Travis, figured out that her husband was cheating on her. They had three kids, she was a stay at home PTA mom, thought everything was perfect…until she found a pair of women's panties that weren't hers in his suitcase. Now that would be bad enough, but see she recognized this pair because she was with her sister when she bought them. Just before going on a trip at the same time as Travis's husband, the one she'd been unpacking his suitcase from."

"She killed her husband and sister for having an affair."

"Yup. Was smart about it too, making sure of things, hires someone to checking out his purchases and 'late meetings', not wanting to jump the gun or more likely not wanting to believe what she knew in her gut. So then she gets the PI's report and it's there in black and white, including the fact that her hubby's been buying her sister 'Rosa', which goes for seven hundred and twenty five dollars an ounce. And it's a little over three ounces in each bottle. And here she's been clipping coupons and doing without because he'd said he'd started putting more money away for the kids. Fuck that, he was spending it on the sister. And then-well, to make a long story short she found out their next planned rendezvous at the sister's place, went there and shot them both dead in the sister's bedroom. Doused their bodies with nearly a full bottle of that Rosa stuff and then turned off the air conditioning in the place. It was August and the bodies weren't found for four days. Not a smell I'll forget until my dying day."

Bane could do nothing but stare. Blake had pretty much lost him after he'd done the mental math. Approximately two thousand, one hundred and sixty-eight American dollars per bottle. Talia had spent a little over that on perfume for at least the past ten years or so. That added up to over twenty thousand dollars she'd spent on something you squirted on your skin to make you smell like flowers. How many mouths could that feed? Lives could that change? Good it could do…

)

Having dealt with countless criminals and serious bad guys since he'd joined the force, not to mention all the ones he'd come across on the streets before that, Blake knew that all of them usually had shades of grey, weaknesses, and…quirks for lack of a better word. Pedophiles were usually meat in prison, there was occasionally honor among thieves, and a man capable of murdering in cold blooded could be a better parent or husband than some 'good' men. Like the Batman he recognized that criminals were people, and more, individuals.

So the fact that the story he'd just told Bane appeared to have left the man stunned speechless confused the hell out of him, but Blake figured there had to be an element of the story that had touched a nerve.

If he could only figure out what nerve, since it was driving him crazy not to know.

Not being an idiot Blake was aware that his curiosity had gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past, he'd shed the blood and iced the bruises to prove it, so he managed to rein in his impulse to in any way touch Bane as he waited for the other man to come back to him.

And when he did Blake's mouth dropped open in shock as he saw the hint of color rise above the leather of Bane's mask when the mercenary realized that he'd been standing there, staring off into space for a while.

"You could have attacked me."

Since mentioning the fact that Bane was blushing was probably a good way to get dead, plus he figured he owed the man for not making fun of him when his own ears got red, Blake didn't comment on that and instead answered Bane's question honestly. "I would have lost."

This was true, but Bane was still surprised that Blake hadn't attempted it.

"Where did you go, just now?"

That was a tough question to answer, especially since it involved things he couldn't and wouldn't talk about. And if he could speak of Talia he could have said that the money she'd spent had been necessary, that she'd had to look and act the part of a rich woman to function in Wayne's world. He'd never asked about the money, where it had all come from and what she'd spent it on…but now he was wondering. And even though it was stupid, and he knew it was, Bane couldn't help but think of that perfume bottle Blake had described to him. And how Talia was just like it.

But since he couldn't say that, or explain himself properly, Bane answered instead that he'd been thinking about the waste of money that perfume was.

"Oh." Surprised, Blake blinked in surprise and then mentally kicked himself for not thinking of that sooner. "Yeah, I've never got why women blow so much money on stuff just because the label's designer or some actress wears it. And you, I bet you've never worn cologne before, right?" And that thought led to another. "I...uhm…should have asked you before I put that cologne on you. Some people don't like that stuff or how it smells."

"I smell like you. I don't mind that."

Rubbing the back of his neck Blake really wished Bane hadn't pointed that out to him. "So why did you come by, anyway?" A change in subject was needed.

"I won't be here tomorrow."

In the logical part of his brain Blake knew that news shouldn't bother him, he should be glad he was going to have a Bane free Christmas Eve. But he wasn't happy. And it was in his voice as he asked why Bane wouldn't be around.

Talia had asked him to spend it with her, but Bane said, with genuine regret, that he had to be somewhere else."

A long silence.

"Then Merry Christmas."

Another pause. "Merry Christmas, Blake."

)

Don't worry, there will be Christmas stuff between them, promise.

)

So a recap of references again for those few who actually care. Chapter fourteen was the name of the French restaurant, Lumiere's, that Blake's friend's name was Jerry, and Jerry Orbach voiced that character, and the mention that Jerry's girlfriend dressed as a French maid, as she was in the movie. The end scene was also supposed to represent the scene where Belle's father goes to Gaston's bar asking for help to save Belle. Chapter fifteen was Blake's thought that Bane might punish him by locking him in his room without supper, and the Disney princess crack, Chapter sixteen Bane's hand being referred to as a 'paw' and him being seen as a monster. Yeah, those were weak, I know. Chapter seventeen was Bane's bathing scene followed by Blake's ballroom scene just like in the movie, followed by the feeding the birds scene. Good luck with this chapter's!


	19. Be Our Guest

Be Our Guest

Long after Bane had left him for the night Blake found that he couldn't go to sleep, his mind too busy agonizing over the fact that he was so messed in the head that he was actually upset that Bane wouldn't be spending Christmas with him. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? Even pushing aside all the obvious reasons why a lack of Bane should make him happy, the man didn't even celebrate Christmas! And there was no way Bane would take the mask off around him so there went sharing a proper holiday meal with him…not to mention the fact that he doubted the man even knew the words to 'Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer', much less the other carols he was going to have to sing by himself. There weren't any present to unwrap either, and he was just fine with watching 'It's A Wonderful Life' all by himself in his room. He'd been doing that for years, thank you very much. Really, at this point he was a pro at being alone Christmas Eve and the fact that Bane's absence was actually keeping him up was just-just wrong!

Though thinking himself pathetic enough to be lonely at the idea of spending Christmas Eve alone was better than thinking he wanted to spend time traditionally meant for families and couples with Bane, Blake thought darkly as he grabbed the spare pillow and pressed it over his face to muffle his groan. That was even more depressing than realizing at the age of seven that Santa didn't exist.

Christmas was supposed to be about peace…so where the hell was his peace of mind, dammit?!

Laying sprawled out on his back Blake found willing himself to sleep to be a no go, and finally he decided to spend his time constructively by falling back on an old holiday tradition that was uniquely his, though he hadn't done it in years. Before he'd done it to be annoying or amuse the littler kids at his foster homes or Swiftins, now he'd do it as something to pass the time since he had nothing better to do, and it might piss off Barsad in the morning if he kept singing it.

And so, for the next couple of hours, Blake went about re-writing the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' outloud, changing the lyrics to fit his present predicament over and over again. It wasn't easy after all, and he did have to embellish or make a guess here and there concerning numbers, but in the end he was quite proud of his final product.

"On the Twelfth Day of Christmas  
The Shadow League Gave to Me:  
Twelve Hours of Agony  
Eleven Gang Encounters  
Ten Bruises Blooming  
Nine Massive Migraines  
Eight Thousand Threatened  
Seven Weeks No Batman  
Six Miles Bombing  
Five Near Deaths  
Four Concussions  
Three Months to Live?  
Two Knife Wounds  
and Gotham City Under Siege."

After that song was done at about three in the morning Blake switched his attention to writing 'Bane, The Baldheaded Bad Guy', but fell asleep before that one could be finished.

)

After sleeping in quite a bit, which was allowed since it was a holiday technically, Blake headed downstairs with a determination to have a damn good Christmas come hell or high water. He ignored the eye rolling and commentary from Barsad too as he sang every happy Christmas carol or song in his repertoire during brunch, and then headed outdoors, thanking the powers that be that he'd been gifted with packing snow. So he built himself a family of snowmen since he didn't have any of his own, drawing the whole thing out as long as possible by making them pets as well before heading back in to get warm, eat cookies, and drink hot chocolate. Once that was done it was time to get down to feast preparations and more carol singing to annoy Barsad with, including his new version of the 'Twelve Days of Christmas'.

Manfully refusing the laugh while committing the hilarious song to memory, Barsad supervised the food preparation as a reminder of why he wasn't going to eat any more Christmas cookies. The cop had already told him what they'd be eating for dinner and the mental imagery had been enough to make him drool. He hadn't, of course, but it was a near thing.

Besides, he had more important things to think about, like how the hell he was going to get Bane back here for Christmas short of lighting the house on fire. Bane hadn't wanted to leave that morning, a child would have been able to pick up that much, and Barsad would have bet quite a lot if he had a lot that Talia was only insisting that Bane spend Christmas with her because she was aware of the bond blooming between her protector and the cop currently making them dinner. As the rumors circulating amongst their men wouldn't have been enough to move her into action he was guessing that Blake's room was possibly bugged as well. Something else he had to figure out how to deal with since if he removed or deactivated them she'd be tipped off to that fact. Dammit.

When it came to the first dilemma fate decided to finally cut Barsad a break a few hours later, thankfully, the answer to his problem coming in the form of Phillipe, who'd been sent to personally deliver a flash drive to Barsad containing information that was for his and Bane's eyes only.

The Frenchman's arrival in the kitchen was announced to Blake by way of several exclamations in the man's native language, the rapturous expression on his face as he very deeply inhaled the scents of Christmas dinner cooking making his appreciation clear even before the growl of the man's stomach embarrassed Phillipe enough that he actually got a little pink in the cheeks.

"What did he say?"

"I'm not French." Was Barsad's slightly sarcastic response to Blake's question. "But I think he likes what you're making."

"My apologies, I did not mean to-it won't happen again." Phillipe's words were for Barsad, who simply nodded to let him know he wasn't in trouble for his reaction. "I came to deliver this to you." Hastily he withdrew an envelope from his coat and held it out to Barsad.

Taking it from the younger man Barsad asked Phillipe a few questions, both men ignoring the curious looks Blake was giving them before finally giving up and going back to work, opening the oven so that he could take out the pan the turkey was cooking in and check it to make sure that all was going as planned.

It was the way Phillipe eyed that turkey one last time before turning to go that gave him the idea, Barsad all but blurting out the question of whether Phillipe would like to remain behind for dinner or not. As he understood it this was the man's last scheduled task before returning to his camp, and there was plenty of food to be had.

To say Phillipe was stunned by the offer would be an understatement, but he didn't dare refuse either.

)

Bane sat across from Talia, doing his best not to pick at the food she'd had prepared for him. He had no idea where she'd gotten their dinner from, and it did look appealing, but he couldn't help but wonder what Blake and Barsad were eating right now. They were no doubt enjoying the food Blake had made himself, home cooked and specially prepared in honor of the Christian holiday currently being celebrated. Did Blake even care that he wasn't there? He would be stupid to think so, especially after what had occurred between them after the single training session they'd hand together…but still…he couldn't help but wish that he would be missed.

The feel of his cellphone vibrating in his pocket gave Bane something else to think about, or it did until he read the message that he'd been sent informing him that one of his men, the one who'd stayed behind to guard his cop after he'd been injured by the street gang, was staying at the house for Christmas dinner. As he'd given Barsad no idea when he would be returning his second in command had decided to give him a heads up so that he wouldn't be surprised to see one of their vehicles parked outside.

Now his dinner was going to be eaten by another one of his men instead of him? One who'd been there to protect Blake when he had not?

"What has you peeved? Is something wrong, my friend?"

"One of our men is staying at the house for dinner. I dislike the idea that he is there while I am not."

"Afraid he'll steal your cop away?" Talia's smile was deceptively teasing, the woman leaning forward at his surprised expression. "What, did you think I would not notice the change in your voice when you speak of him? He's wormed his way into your affections, that's dangerous, you know." And now her expression changed, becoming much more serious. "He's a cop, Bane, he stands against us. He has no loyalty to you, and will hurt you if you give him the chance."

Well aware she was right but refusing to acknowledge that fact, Bane stated that one such as Detective Blake was no threat to him or their plans.

Talia shook her head knowingly. "You stand as a testament to the body's ability to heal physical wounds, Bane. It will happen provided one lives long enough to heal. The wounds we carry in our hearts…are another matter." Bitter, all consuming hatred showed in her eyes for a moment, changed the beautiful to the ugly and dark. "I know you, my friend, better than you know yourself at times. You care for your pet, and are ignoring the inadvertent conclusion as a result. You have destroyed his city. Killed the people he stands for without mercy. More, you have locked away his comrades in sewers or sent them to their deaths on the ice. To him you are a monster. Inhuman. Someone to be hated and destroyed. Every action he takes, every kindness or understanding he might show you, is part of his plan to end you. Do not let yourself be seduced."

"Talia…"

"I saw the irises you brought in with you, that you left in the other room. They're for him, aren't they?" Stretching out a hand Talia neatly pulled one of the long stemmed roses he'd brought her as a Christmas gift from its vase, pointing the blood red bloom in Bane's direction. "Do you think a flower will win him over, instead of making him wish to cast you back into the bitter cold? Will keep him from being repulsed by your appearance, fooled by it like so many others?" Twirling the flower like a wand Talia's voice was somehow…both biting and indulgent. "Of course not. Don't be a fool, Bane. I say this because I love you. Don't be fooled or you'll doom yourself."

In some dim corner of his mind Bane compared the feelings he was experiencing now with what he'd felt when Blake had looked had him with such loathing and distaste in reaction-or supposed reaction to the perfume from Talia's scarf. It wasn't like he hadn't thought what she'd just said, knew what she said was true…but hearing it outloud…was worse. So much worse.

"Bane."

Looking at the hand she'd placed over top of his Bane naturally shifted it under hers, linking their fingers together as he held on. She didn't care what he looked like, and had always been there for him to the best of her ability. What he did here in Gotham was for her. For love of her.

"You have nothing to worry about, Talia. I will not fail you."

Seeing what she wanted to see in his eyes Talia smiled. "I know I can count on you."

)

Hours later Bane entered the house with the large vase full of irises of every color in his hands. He'd almost thrown them away after leaving Talia's, wanting to be rid of them and all they represented. He'd gone to the famed greenhouses attached to Gotham University to see if roses had survived that he could bring to Talia as a gift…and had seen that some of the irises had survived as well somehow, his favorite flower. And he had thought that it was common in most every culture, to bring flowers to someone when you wished to court them. So he'd picked them as well and found them a vase. To give to Blake, yes, as both a token of his feelings and as a Christmas gift.

But instead he would put them in his room, breath in their perfume, stare at their beauty…and watch them decay as they reminded him each and every time he saw them that that was the truth about what he felt for the man he'd intended to give them to.

After placing them in his room Bane stashed away his coat and then went in search of the others, having seen that the vehicle his man had come in was still out front. He needed to make his presence known before turning in for the night.

He located the three in the sparsely lit room that had been dedicated to watching the garbage produced by the Western world that passed for entertainment, Blake flanked by one of his men on either side while they watched what was playing out on screen from the long leather couch. When he glanced in that direction the picture was in color which surprised him, he'd been told that 'It's A Wonderful Life' was a black and white film, but then he recognized the blond child in it and knew that the viewing choice for the evening had been changed.

When he turned his eyes back to them they were all looking at him, the screen forgotten. Both his men got to their feet and stood waiting for a signal from him, while Blake leaned out to study him from a seated position, the first to speak.

"Am I going to be happy about whatever put that look on your face?"

Keeping his voice cool Bane asked the younger man what he meant.

"Well your eyes are saying that you're upset about something…which may or not bode well for my side." Now it was Blake that shot to his feet, hope and joy lighting up his eyes. "Is it Batman? Did he get out of The Pit? Is he back?"

"No."

"Oh." Disappointment obvious Blake nonetheless asked what had happened, frowning when Bane stated it wasn't his business before pointedly dismissing him to tell Phillipe that he should head back to his camp.

"Yes, Sir." Nodding, Phillipe moved away from the other two, and then, unable to not at least acknowledge the delicious meal and company the Gotham cop had provided, the mercenary bowed his head and said good night, hoping that Blake would realize he wasn't just saying it to Barsad.

Getting the message Blake simply met Phillipe's gaze for a moment, silently conveying his good byes as he sensed that he would do more harm than good if he verbally acknowledged the other man in any way. Something was very, very wrong with Bane right now. That he wasn't being told what that something was gave him hope that his side had struck a blow somehow…but the more he thought about it the more he thought that that wasn't it at all. A rebellious act would challenge Bane…not…whatever this was.

As soon as Phillipe was gone Barsad stated that he was going to turn in as well unless Bane needed him. He had information to look over and it had been a long day.

Dismissing his second Bane waited until Barsad was gone as well before turning back to Blake, stating that the other man should go to bed as well.

"Do I have to?" Blake asked quietly, aware on an instinctual level that now was the time to step cautiously. "I haven't had a chance to watch my movie yet…Phillipe and I got talking about Christmas movies and he'd seen the first 'Home Alone' in French, when he was a kid. We wanted to see if it was different, you know the way it is sometimes with subtitles and all that. Or I could just watch it in my room." He added, the coldness that seemed to all but permeate from Bane unnerving the hell out of him.

"Stay then."

Saying Bane's name carefully, Blake asked if he would like to stay and watch the movie with him.

"I have no interest in wasting my time on American trash."

Eyes narrowing, Blake asked if Bane was talking about him or the movie, because it felt like he meant both. And while he could accept the dig towards himself, the movie was a whole other roll of film.

"You would rather be called trash then the film?"

"I spent the majority of my childhood and teenage years being called trash because of where I grew up and my lack of money. That's nothing new to me, and hell, any kid who spends years in foster care ends up feeling like trash regardless of how he or she started out. A lot of us transported our clothes from one house to the other in garbage bags for fuck's sake. So no, being called trash doesn't piss me off nearly as much as your habit of saying that everything about Western culture is evil or tainted or wrong. I hate stereotyping, period. And I bet if you watched this movie you wouldn't think it was trash…but you're not going to see it and that's your loss."

Moving in close Bane leaned in so that they were essentially nose to nose. "You would be wise not to speak to me thus."

"Well someone's got to. We can't all wear the masks you want us to."

Enraged, hating what was being implied and the thoughts attached to them, Bane made a sound that was too harsh to call a chuckle. "You fool yourself if you think I don't see the mask you wear, Detective. Mine is just more honest."

"No. Yours hides your humanity and who you are underneath. Mine…hides an anger that you understand, but most don't. And thoughts and feelings I don't want others to see, yes, I hide them…but that's human nature. Everyone has those masks. Needs those masks sometimes. This one though," Blake reached up and tapped the side of the metal mask that covered the majority of Bane's face. "This mask is just another Pit."

And having said his piece Blake walked over to the laptop he'd hooked up to the flat screen, typing away at it to access the movie he wanted, ignoring the silence and Bane's presence before taking a seat back on the couch when it was ready to go.

He didn't say anything either, when Bane took the seat beside him.

"No one angers me the way you do."

"That doesn't surprise me."


	20. I'll Get Warm

I'll Get Warm

There were too many things to say, so many words that wanted to be expressed but were strangled internally by either Bane's sense of self-preservation or squashed by the feelings he had for Blake that wouldn't allow him to severe what little bond they might have at this point. Silence was often best when one didn't have control over one's words, Bane told himself, refusing to acknowledge the fact that part of his reluctance to continue this argument was that he didn't want to. He didn't want to fight, and wasn't up to it even if he had been itching to continue the verbal sparring.

So he settled back into the couch with the determination that he wouldn't speak, but would pay rapt attention to the film and then at the end tell Blake everything that was wrong with it. And make sure that his cop knew that he didn't think he was trash, Bane mentally added to his to do list, because he should have said that earlier but had been too caught up in everything else to do so.

Given the title of the film Bane had expected it to be a movie about someone getting everything they wanted for Christmas since giving and receiving material objects seemed to be the main purpose of the holiday for everyone but Blake. But what it was was a depiction of the life of a fairly ordinary man named George Bailey who had, in the course of his life, done noble things that had completely altered the futures of his town. A man who'd given up a life of travel and adventure for the sake of others, and who felt in many ways that he'd failed and that the world would have been better off without him because he couldn't see the impact he'd had on others until an angel had shown him otherwise.

And though his attention was fully on the television screen, his concentration completely absorbed in the plot, Bane still noticed when Blake got off the couch for a minute to retrieve a blanket that had carelessly been tossed over a chair at some point.

When Blake sat back down he was closer to him, the reason becoming apparent when the other man spread the blanket out so that it not only covered Blake from the waist down, but his own lower half as well. He hadn't been cold…but the gesture warmed him as he murmured a quiet thank you.

"You're welcome."

Neither spoke for the rest of the movie, Blake the first to break the silence when the credits started rolling, signaling the end.

"So, what did you think?"

"It was beautiful." Was Bane's honest reply. "It suits you."

"Thanks. I think." Pushing aside his side of the blanket Blake got to his feet, lifting his arms to stretch and get the blood flowing again before he turned to look at Bane. "So are you feeling better now?"

Bane considered denying the man's observation, but instead nodded his head. And he did feel a little better, though he didn't expect that to remain true once the effect of the movie and being with Blake wore off. Reality wasn't like the films; there were no happy endings here.

"Good. No one should be grumpy on Christmas."

"Aren't you unhappy, spending Christmas here?"

Having knelt down in front of the laptop to turn it off Blake paused, glancing over his shoulder at Bane for a moment before turning back to what he was doing as he shook his head. "I've had worse Christmases than this. I mean sure, there are places I'd rather be at the moment, and it would be great if you weren't holding my whole city hostage, but all in all this doesn't even make the top five of my 'Worst Christmases' list."

"You're being held hostage."

A chuckle greeted that statement. "Yeah, and that sucks, but I stand behind my earlier statement."

Okay, now Bane had to ask what had happened to the man in the five worst Christmas experiences Blake had ever had.

"Well technically speaking the Christmas after my mom died is number one, but I just remember my dad crying a lot and that I-I asked Santa to bring her back for Christmas and obvious that wasn't happening. The most vivid worst Christmas was when I was twelve and everyone in the house ended up with extreme food poisoning because my foster mother couldn't cook worth a damn. It's why I'm so turkey-phobic and anal about checking on it constantly. Everyone was throwing up or curled up in a ball of misery that Christmas."

As they headed out of the room Blake continued his recollections, recalling Christmases where there was no electricity or presents, or the first Christmas he went through after accepting that there was no Santa Claus, which had been incredibly depressing for him and had really casted a dark shadow over the whole holiday. So yeah, he summed up, he had a warm roof over his head, amazing food to eat, no one was ill, and the company hadn't been horrible considering he'd been surrounded by people who would have sent him into icy waters to drown if not for Bane. So yeah, he'd had worse Christmases, but watching 'It's A Wonderful Life' generally made any Christmas better.

"You enjoy it because you are like George Bailey, devoting yourself to the people around you at your own expense."

Blake sounded both flattered and embarrassed when he thanked Bane for the comparison. "I'm not in his league, but thanks. And actually what I like most about it is the idea that all our lives after intertwined and that when we do our best and live good lives we make other people's lives better, even if we don't know it. Like that song 'Through Heaven's Eyes'."

"I am unfamiliar with it."

"Yeah, should have figured that. It's from an animated movie based on the story of Moses. You know who that is, right?" When Bane nodded Blake continued his explanation. "So anyway the song comes after Moses leaves Egypt after accepting his true heritage, causing him to give up the rights and privileges of being a prince. He's left feeling like he's been reduced to being nothing, but his future father in-law makes him see things differently through this song."

To Bane's surprise Blake started to sing the song, not that he was complaining as he listened intently to the lyrics as he pointedly didn't look in the other man's direction in case that would stop him. The song did indeed fit with what they'd been talking about, particularly the first part of it. And he knew that gold meant nothing in comparison to water in a desert, and was very familiar with the capriciousness of fate. Blake alone, in such a short span of time, had changed his own plans…and who he was before he'd seen the shifts coming.

"I can see why you would remember that particular song."

"Yeah, best part of the movie. I never liked the story of Moses…or a lot of Bible stories really. I mean when you're a kid you get the Disney version of them so to speak, but when you really think about them they reminded me of some of the many reasons I don't go to church unless I get guilted into it."

"Your homosexuality damns you in the eyes of many religious sects."

A dismissive sound greeted that statement. "That doesn't help, sure, but there are a lot of other religious views I've got more of a problem with. I don't like belonging to groups that think they're superior to others, especially when they condemn and threaten people who are different for not thinking the way they do. If that damns me after I die, well then heaven or whatever you want to call it isn't the place for me."

"To damn you would be unforgivable."

He could see that Bane meant that, and it was nice-but both of them had very different lines when it came to their understanding of right and wrong. So instead of thanking him Blake opted to lighten the mood so to speak.

"Well depending on what god you're talking about they're known to be pretty unforgivable." He'd spent plenty of time around believers and nonbelievers, so he was fairly used to this particular conversation. "I figured a long time ago that worrying about that sort of thing is pointless. Living a life I can be proud of is what matters, and if my time's coming soon I reached that goal, so I'm good."

Opening his mouth to respond to that Bane closed his mouth just as quickly, swallowing the syllables that would have come together to form words that would have conveyed his intention to save the man if he could.

It was instinct that had Blake asking Bane what he'd been about to say.

"Nothing of importance."

"Right…I'd say pull my other leg, but we're on stairs."

Bane couldn't help it, he had to laugh.

)

The sound of it had Blake stopping in his tracks, his full attention on Bane as he was overcome with the wish that he could hear what Bane really sounded like when he laughed. Not mechanized and filtered, but Bane's true voice, the one that was hidden just like his face. But as the saying went, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, Blake acknowledged, telling himself to just enjoy the fact that he'd made Bane laugh hard enough that the other man had actually grabbed the railing for a moment.

When Bane stopped laughing, which didn't take very long unfortunately, Blake decided to try again, stating that since he was standing, would Bane care to say what he hadn't said before.

A long pause, long enough that Blake thought the answer was going to be no, and then Bane did answer.

"What's the best Christmas present you've ever gotten?"

Okay, he so had not seen that coming. Not remotely. "My best-seriously?" His question greeted with a nod Blake didn't know what to say at first, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to think of the answer he hadn't expected to need. It helped that he'd never gotten very many. "Well I guess it would be the first five seasons of Cold Case burned onto DVD discs for me. Not that I'm a proponent of illegal downloading, but it's the producers own fault for not putting the series on DVD yet. I've always planned to buy every season when they did get around to selling them, just so we're clear."

When Bane just stared at him without commenting it belatedly occurred to Blake why he was being asked this.

"Is this about what I did to Osito?"

The stairwell got very cold in a finger snap, Bane's voice reflecting that without a hint of his earlier laughter. "What did you do to him?"

"Ah…you haven't been back to your room." And very aware of the fact that his bones would break many times over if he was thrown off the stairs from their current height, Blake hastily backed up until his back hit the wall, his hands coming up defensively. "I didn't damage him! I don't have a death wish, remember? Plus destroying your teddy bear on Christmas…I'd have to be pure evil to do that."

The temperature warmed a little, but Blake was pretty sure he wasn't off the hook and wasn't surprised when Bane ordered him to show him what he'd done.

Not about to argue Blake started moving up the few remaining stairs, heading down the hallway towards Bane's room with the other man at his heels. He'd thought his plan funny, a joke that Bane would hopefully appreciate in the spirit it had been meant…but now he was thinking he should have run the plan by Barsad first.

Opening the door to Bane's room Blake motioned him inside, thankful when the other man went in first in his haste to make sure that the stuffed animal was indeed undamaged. This way he could remain close to the door, just in case, though he wasn't foolish enough to think he could get away if Bane was determined to catch and kill him.

Just as he'd left him, Osito was sitting on Bane's bedside table…wearing a bright red sweater and holding a sign that said 'Here's Hoping For A Better New Year'. The bear was also standing guard over a plate he'd piled high with cookies for Bane to enjoy when he got home.

"The sweater, it was actually on this really ugly Christmas decoration slash figurine thingie I came across before when I was going through the decorations. Very memorable and I figured-it covers some of the battle scars if nothing else."

Watching Bane walk across the room to pick his bear up Blake studied his body language for signs that he was in trouble. Seeing the hint of lines around the man's eyes that made him think Bane was smiling, Blake couldn't help but smile in return, relieved that he was apparently off the hook.

And then, out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a flash of color that struck him as off.

Turning his head Blake stared in surprise at what had been set on the other bedside table, which had been bare except for a lamp when he'd come upstairs to change for dinner and leave his little surprise for Bane. "What the hell?"

Walking over to get a better look Blake whistled at the huge flower display, reaching out to finger a petal while he looked over at Bane to ask where he'd gotten them from.

"The university greenhouses." The bear still in his hands Bane couldn't help but turn his head to look at Blake as the other man obviously admired the flowers. It would appear that the detective was the sort who appreciated such things, man or not. That had been of some concern to him originally, when he'd meant to give them to Blake.

"Ah. Gotcha." Though he wouldn't have taken Bane for the type to go out of his way to pick flowers, Blake thought as he counted all the various shades. Appreciate their beauty, yes, but not enough to go out of his way to get them and bring them back here. "I didn't know they came in so many colors. I guess that's why the name refers to the Greek word for rainbows, right?"

"That is correct. The Greek goddess Iris, who was personified by rainbows, was a messenger between the heavens and earth, connecting the gods to humanity."

It had been a long time since he'd had to study Ancient Greece in school, but that did sound sort of familiar. Not that he wanted to get into a discussion about the old stories, as most of the gods had been douches in his opinion. Especially Zeus.

And… "You're staring, Bane."

"Why did you put Osito in this sweater, and leave me these cookies? What do you hope to gain from it?" Talia's words were still ringing in Bane's ears, but they were fainter now, more muted as his ears perked up to hear what Blake would say. He loved the sound of the other man's voice.

"Now that question I saw coming. And to answer it…mostly I thought your reaction would be pretty damn funny and it's Christmas. Even during World Wars they'd call a ceasefire for Christmas, so this was my way of saying we were at peace for the day. Of course I figured today would be fight free with you not around…should have known that wouldn't be the case." Which annoyed him, but he was still, stupid as it was, glad that Bane had come back before midnight. That he'd gotten to see him before he turned in for the night. "You don't look mad, but just in case…?"

"I'm not angry with you."

"Okay. I'm going to head to bed then." Turning to leave Blake couldn't help but steal one last glance at the riot of colorful blooms. "It's weird-I mean I wonder why you didn't see it there before. Osito. You're usually more observant than that."

"They're for you."

Blinking, sure he must have heard wrong, Blake asked Bane to repeat what he'd just said.

"I picked them for you. For Christmas." He hadn't meant to say it the first time, the words had just slipped out, but he couldn't take them back now. It was too late on so many levels.

Jaw dropping in shock, Blake didn't know what to say to that as he looked back at the flowers, then at Bane again, the mercenary watching him but saying nothing. He'd-he'd never gotten flowers from another man before. Once from a woman who'd wanted to thank him for recovering her wedding ring after it had been stolen and pawned, but that hadn't been a…a…romantic gesture. A sweet, old fashioned, adorable gesture that was just-Bane had gotten him flowers.

Ears flushing red, he could feel them and didn't even care, Blake blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I'm a little disturbed that your bio on me was so thorough you know my favorite flower. That's just fucking creepy, actually."

"I didn't know. They're my favorite."

"Oh." Now he really didn't know what to say.

"I'll carry them into your room for you. The vase is heavy."

Nodding his head dumbly, he was at a complete and total loss for words at this point, Blake hurried over to the main door to open it for Bane, who set Osito aside on the bed and came over to lift up the vase and carry it out of the room.

Together they walked down the hall to Blake's room, Bane setting them down on the bedside table for him once they'd arrived at their destination.

"Thanks. Thanks all around. They're really…beautiful." He'd found his words, finally, but he was still looking and sounding like a bashful teenager and Blake knew it. Damn, how did Bane keep doing this to him, and how the hell did he make it stop?

It was of some small consolation that he was pretty sure Bane thought the same where he was concerned at least some of the time.

)

Note: Forgot to mention that for Chapter fourteen there was also the mentioning of the teacher Cogsworth who was obsessed with time. Fast forward to chapter eighteen, with the ottoman being like a dog, as in the movie, and the rose perfume refers to the Beast's rose and the lesson of beauty being dangerous. Chapter nineteen is Talia's warning against Blake, referencing the sorceress's speech, as well as Bane giving her a rose, but her reducing him to a beast through her actions. This chapter it's the line 'I wonder why you (I) didn't see it there before', and Bane giving Blake flowers, which he accepts and he allows Bane in, bringing him closer to the man he is.


	21. I'll Get Hot

I'll Get Hot

Blake turned his attention to fussing over the flowers, he didn't know what the fuck else to do given the present situation and the fact that Bane…Bane was fucking with his mind the way no other guy had ever come close to doing since he'd discovered he was sexually attracted to men. Wants and needs, right and wrong, black and white, nothing was clear when it was like this between them. When it was unescapable, what they felt when they weren't fighting or able to get behind the shields they'd honed to protect themselves from hurt decades ago.

But Bane wasn't leaving the room, and finally he couldn't not look over at him, Blake's eyes meeting Bane's against his own will.

"Why? Why would you get me something for Christmas? And why flowers, of all things?"

"You know why."

Yes. Yes he did. Under all the denial he knew exactly why Bane had done what he'd done and playing stupid about it was just…stupid at this point.

Cursing fluently under his breath, even though normally he had a policy to watch his language during Christmas, Blake made a straggling gesture towards Bane and then stalked over to him, going up on tippy toes that he was as big as he could get. "Am I the only one here who understands the consequences if we do this? If…for fuck sakes, Bane, I can't even kiss you with that mask on your face, even if I wanted to." Glaring at the mask in question Blake wanted to rip it off Bane's face for precisely that reason. So that he could kiss Bane until they were so lost in it that what came after wouldn't weigh so heavy until after sanity had returned.

Lifting his hands Bane slid his fingers through Blake's hair, watching the heat flare in the other man's dark eyes at his touch. "I understand the consequences. I'd talked myself out of giving you the flowers before I came to find you earlier. I was going to keep them, and watch them die."

Imagining it, and connecting the dots, Blake's curved in an almost cruel smile. "We're both dying, aren't we?"

Continuing to card his fingers through his cop's hair, it was getting a little shaggy now, Bane nodded his head, not about to lie. He might wish it wasn't so, but he knew that even if he were to leave Gotham alive there would be a part of him that died in this wretched city because of this man. And even if he saved Blake, was able to see him spared somehow, there would be a part of the cop that would be dead too, destroyed by guilt for surviving when so many hadn't and the knowledge of why he'd been protected and saved.

Slowly Blake slid his hands up Bane's chest, feeling the muscles bunch and flex under his touch. And then his hands were on those wide, strong shoulders, and clutching them Blake let himself lean forward, resting his body against the strength of Bane's.

Keeping one hand where it was Bane moved the other to encircle Blake's waist, supporting him that way too as he continued to stroke, not knowing what else to do or say.

And they stayed that way for a while, Bane finally stating that Blake should get ready for bed. It was late.

Nodding, Blake stepped back and out from under Bane's hands, the detective walking over to the bed where he'd already set out his usual nightwear before heading to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

Deliberately choosing not to so much as glance in the mirror Blake went about his normal nighttime routine of changing, putting away his clothes in the hamper, one last bathroom break, and then washing up as well as brushing his teeth. He did it all on autopilot, deliberately keeping his mind blank as he washed off his tooth brush, set it aside for the night, and then headed for the door, thinking he was probably in for one sleepless night. Again.

The bedroom was dark when he stepped out, making him think that Bane must have turned out all the lights before leaving. But instinct had Blake realizing in a snap that Bane hadn't left, making him turn to face the man who was a part of the shadows that now blanketed the room.

"Bane?"

He didn't move to back away when Bane moved closer, or object when the man's hands came up to hold his head between them. And then Bane leaned in and Blake opened his mouth to ask when he was doing, the words dying a quick and total death as he felt the unmistakable sensation of lips brushing against his right cheek and then the left.

Immediately reaching out Blake traced those lips with his fingers, feeling giddy at the contact. "You took it off."

It took Bane a moment to process the words, the feel of Blake's fingertips running over his lips, caressing them, fogging up his ability to think. "Only for a moment. What you said before, that even if you wanted to you could not kiss me…the option is now there."

His fingers moving to splay over Bane's cheeks, Blake didn't even care what Bane had just said, the fact that he was finally hearing Bane's voice for the first time without the mask mechanizing his words taking all his attention. "You have an accent, I couldn't hear it before. Keep talking so that I can try and place it."

The response was so unexpected that Bane couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head over the fact that he honestly never knew what to expect when it came to his detective and the complicated workings of the younger man's mind. He'd just asked for a kiss, admittedly in a roundabout way, to see what Blake would say, and all the man cared about was hearing more of his voice so that he could figure out his accent.

"I have no true native language, I speak various tongues in the accents that were taught to me. The man who taught me English was originally from South America."

Blake spoke in Spanish when he stated that he spoke decent Spanish, but didn't consider himself fluent. And what other languages did Bane all speak, anyway?

"Me vuelves loco."

"I drive YOU crazy? You drive me crazy."

"I am far easier to understand than you."

"Yeah, you keep deluding yourself into thinking that, Bane. As it is we'll both be as insane as the Joker by the time we get blown up, the way we're going. Something to look forward to."

Making another sound of amusement Bane pressed his forehead against Blake's, not bothering to comment since he didn't know what to say at this point. Other than the fact that he should be saying good night but didn't want to.

"To hell with it."

Uncertain what Blake meant by that, Bane got his answer a moment later when Blake's lips slated across his and he found himself being kissed for the first time, the gasp of surprise he made making room for the other man's tongue to come into play as well.

The kiss didn't last very long, a brief tasting that stirred up as much as it settled as Blake introduced Bane to the deceptively simple show of affection that had the other man going pliant with the pleasure and making a small sound of distress when Blake pulled away.

"Please."

Bane's plea seem to echo in the room and then he pressed his lips carefully against Blake's, asking for more without knowing how to do it properly himself. He was prepared to beg for it as he held the other man's body tightly against his, wanting every bit of contact he could get.

Tasting the terrible need and desperation, having heard it in the simple 'please' Bane had spoken, Blake found himself giving in inspite of himself, putting everything he had into this next kiss even as he kept it achingly sweet and tender, no tongue or nibbling, just their lips meeting and their arms holding each other close as the shadows hid their expressions from the other.

And when he finally broke off that kiss and they'd been silently holding each other for several minutes without talking or trying to initiate another kiss, Blake found himself taking Bane's hand, giving it a slight tug as he motioned in the direction of the bed with a quick jerk of his head. "You can sleep here tonight, if you want. Sex isn't on the menu."

More than happy to accept those terms Bane nodded, retrieving his mask from the nightstand and putting it back into place before following the other man over to the bed, joining him under the covers on his side, as he knew Blake often slept that way. And Blake shuffled backwards so that they were side by side, with his back pressed up against Bane's chest, which gave Bane the courage to place an arm across Blake's chest to keep him close, smiling behind his mask when the touch wasn't shaken off.

)

Waking up the next morning, Christmas Day, Blake stared blankly in front of him, intimately aware of the body currently pressed up against the back of his. And while logically he knew he should be freaking out over that fact, not the least because Bane's sizeable erection was currently pressed up against his ass, Blake found himself too tired to so much as flinch over the situation he found himself in. Bane was probably awake as well, or at least sleeping lightly enough that the man would know the instant he moved. And that thought had him rolling around to face Bane, the other man's eyes open and meeting his without flinching.

"Morning."

"Good morning, Robin."

Okay, the use of his first name wasn't exactly something he'd been expecting, but given their previous conversation about names and the importance of their meanings Blake supposed he really shouldn't be surprised that Bane was changing his form of address. He should actually be more surprised that it hadn't started sooner.

"I'd make a comment about whether or not we're on a first name basis…but since you only have a first name and we are sharing a bed at the moment…just don't call me that in front of anyone else and I'll allow it. Can't promise to answer to it though, I haven't in a long time."

Bane thought that over for a moment. "I like that only I can call you by your true name."

Rolling his eyes over the fact that Bane would see it that way, which made him feel weird on top of everything else, Blake didn't bother to argue about it, instead stating that he was going to get up and head for the bathroom to take care of business and shower, turning over and sitting up to do precisely that.

Keeping his arm around Blake's waist, though he knew he should move it, Bane asked the question he'd been mulling over since he'd woken up about two hours ago.

"Why did you invite me to sleep with you?"

Blake kicked off his covers as he answered, deliberately not looking at Bane. "I couldn't leave you alone the way you were."

"So it was out of pity."

"Compassion. Basic human decency." Blake corrected, looking down at Bane now. "I don't know what the hell went wrong last night, especially since you're being an ass and not telling me, but something was seriously wrong and I could all but see the darkness smothering you to death in front of me. And you sinking further into the black isn't good for anyone." That he'd also wanted Bane's company...went unsaid.

"It was to help your people then."

Lifting a hand Blake aimed to flick Bane between the eyes, Bane grabbing his wrist before he did, the grip just tight enough to sting a little.

Jerking on his captured arm Blake glared until Bane turned him loose.

"Be that way then. It's what you're good at." And on that note Blake slid across his side of the bed and off it, walking around the bed towards the bathroom and very loudly slamming it closed behind him.

Calling himself every kind of stupid idiot, boy was he an idiot, Blake discarded his clothes and left them lying on the floor, uncaring for the moment that he might trip over them later and break something. Who cared if he did after all? He'd be dead before said bone healed anyway unless the Venom still swirling around in his bloodstream was just that badass. His arm was certainly all but healed at this point. And thinking about Venom in general just pissed him off that much more, so that Blake almost forgot to relieve himself before stalking over to the shower, which coincided with the sound of the door being swung open and Bane entering the room without his permission.

Restraining himself from giving Bane the finger, no matter how tempting it was and boy was it ever, Blake closed the shower door behind him and then turned his attention to playing with the water to get the right temperature, ignoring the other man's presence.

And even through the glass and water, mere moments later, Blake could hear Bane perfectly as the man demanded to know why he thought he could get away with torturing him this way.

Hands dropping back to his sides where they fisted, Blake had to take several slow, calming breaths to keep himself from exploding and doing something stupid like putting said fists through the glass wall that stood between the two of them. In the time he'd known Bane he'd been forced to kill someone, had his hero badly hurt and sent to a hell hole, lived in a war zone, been shot, kidnapped, exposed to Venom, stabbed, been given countless headaches from arguing with the stubborn idiot, forced to stand by while his city continued to be destroyed…AND had to deal with a massive attraction to a man who was responsible, one way or another, for everything that was currently wrong with his life even if he was taking his orders from someone else.

And Bane thought he was the one being tortured here? That he was suffering more than he was?

Turning his head to meet Bane's gaze through the glass, Blake's eyes darkened to nearly black. Bane thought he'd tortured him? Oh he'd show him torture.

)

As he hadn't taken complete leave of his senses Bane was fully aware of the fact that following Blake into the bathroom hadn't been one of his smartest ideas, especially since he knew that a shower would mean seeing Blake naked, but he hadn't been able to stop himself. He also knew, in some corner of his still rational brain, that the poison Talia had injected into his feelings for Blake the night before was responsible for his inability not to pick at everything Blake did that showed him the slightest hint of kindness or desire to be closer to him. It was not what he should do, and made him feel pathetic, but Bane couldn't seem to stop himself.

"So you think I'm torturing you, do you, Bane?"

The way Blake had said those words, a purr with a hint of claws, scraped over Bane's raw nerves the way they were meant to, the sight of the cop's tense body, muscles flexing as water ran down them while the other man stared him down with eyes gone black…

He actually shuddered and had to close his eyes for a moment before he could rein himself in enough to answer with a simple nodded of the head, words beyond him at the moment.

As he watched, having forced his eyes to open, Bane tracked every motion Blake's body made as the other man retrieved something from the variety of bottles lined up on the shower's long, built in shelf, popping the top and pouring some sort of liquid into his hand.

"I haven't deliberately been torturing you, FYI, but since you think I'm the sort who would do that for shits and giggles, well I guess I'll have to educate you for future reference, should you get out of Gotham alive and find yourself in this situation again. Killing two birds really, since this is how I like to start my day when I get the chance anyway."

A brief pause, then Blake turned to stand sideways, his voice still hard with the promise of both violence and unspeakable pleasure when he spoke.

"So, Cher, My Dear Bane. It is with deepest pride, and greatest pleasure, that I welcome you today. And now I invite you to relax, let's pull up a chair, as the bathroom proudly presents - your torture!"

It took Bane several heartbeats to understand what he was seeing, or it would have if his heart hadn't literally stopped beating in his chest as some corner of his brain caught on right away what Blake planned to do before the rest of his mind very sluggishly caught up to the rest.

The no doubt deliberately loud moans were what made it final sink in, Bane's brain finally connecting the dots so that it understood that Blake was making those sounds, moving his body that way because yes, he had a finger buried deep inside his very naked ass and was stimulating himself that way, while the mans' other hand was wrapped around his erection in a tight grip, his body's reactions to the first making him thrust into his wrapped fingers for added sensation.

Trying to look away was impossible, as was closing his eyes or fleeing the room now. Every second was already imprinting on his mind like acid, each new sound Blake made, the expression of pleasure Bane could see on the other man's face, and the fact that this was for him, even if it was a punishment…he couldn't have stopped watching if their lives depended upon it. He was also aware on some level just how aroused and hard he was getting watching this, his breathing even more halted and full of static than normal, but all that took a backseat to what he was watching, his need not to miss a second of what Blake was doing.

And then Blake was adding a second finger, the detective's back arching like a drawn bow while his mouth dropped open in a guttural sound of pleasure…and that hit a button Bane hadn't even known he'd had.

Pushed it hard, so that he couldn't just watch anymore.


	22. No One Bites

No One Bites

Distracted as hell by what he was doing, not only because Blake knew just how to touch to bring himself the most pleasure, but because of the way Bane was looking at him through the glass while watching his every move, it took Blake a moment to realize that the other man was also moving, and then the shower door was opening and Bane was stepping into the shower with his clothes still on, the materials getting drenched as Bane moved in closer to the shower, caging Blake back against the tiled wall with Bane's size making it impossible for him to escape.

His hands leaving his body, self-preservation instinct kicking in just a little too late to save him, Blake quickly moved to brace those hands against Bane's chest in a completely futile effort to push the other man back as he glared at him, the water lashing out at Bane the way he wanted to, though Bane seemed completely oblivious to the spray that made the oddest sounds as the water bounced off the mask Bane was still wearing.

"I didn't say you could join me."

"I don't need your permission." Was Bane's raspy response, the man's right hand moving now too across Blake's wet thigh and then around to stroke the curve of the detective's ass, which had Blake hissing like a pissy cat in response. But even he didn't expect Bane's next move, Blake's eyes going huge as a strangled out gasp left his lips in response to Bane slipping one large finger inside him.

Digging his nails into the wet cotton of Bane's shirt, Blake wanted to verbally tear the mercenary to shreds and would have if he could have. Unfortunately he was too busy grinching his teeth to keep the sounds he wanted to make in his throat, though he wasn't even entirely successful there as Bane's finger moved with determined purpose against his already sensitive outsides, finding the spot guaranteed to get a reaction of him and exploiting it for all it was worth.

Dammit, dammit, dammit. That was all Blake's brain could think to rage over. So big. Bane's finger felt so big, he was so big, crowding him like this, using his strength and size so completely against him while those eyes, those beautiful eyes bore into his, glowing with the absolute certainty that he had every right to do this. That he was his to touch this way. And try as he might Blake couldn't ignore the coming orgasm either, because there was nothing he could do, so completely was he at Bane's mercy as Bane added another finger, the stretch bringing a burn to the pleasure that gave it added claws and hooked him completely and broke what little control he had left.

So when he knew it was too late Blake shifted his hands up so that he could dig his fingers into Bane's shoulders, and as the climax hit him he lowered his head and bit down hard on the spot where Bane's neck met shoulder in one final show of defiance.

And even while his own system relayed the pleasure of his orgasm, Blake couldn't help but feel, thanks to being sandwiched between the cool tile and the furnace of Bane's body, the telltale shudders that coursed through Bane's body, saw even through his own haze the shocked pleasure in Bane's unfocused eyes. And heard the garbled groans through the mask that the water didn't drown out.

Under normal circumstances, given how pissed he still was at Bane, Blake would have made a crack about the other man's easy trigger and all that suggested, but he was a little too busy staying upright at the moment to do so.

Turning into a pile of hormonal goo would undermine what little standing he had left.

Resting his forehead on Bane's shoulder for a moment, Blake allowed himself a small moan when Bane removed his fingers, knowing his ass was going to be sore but not really caring at the moment. He wanted those fingers back inside him, and that concerned him way more.

Talk about putting a bow on the day thus far. Merry Fucking Christmas.

Lifting his head when he figured he could look into Bane's eyes without swooning like some fairy tale princess, Blake met Bane's gaze squarely through the water dripping into his eyes. "Enjoy your torture?"

Having taken a step back to give him a little more room, Bane's hand was gentle as he pushed back Blake's wet bangs, remaining silent despite the question.

"Since you aren't in the mood to talk you might wanna get out of here before that tin can on your face rusts and you end up being even harder to understand than usual." Having found his sarcasm, thank God, Blake deliberately closed the space between them so that they were chest to chest again, the water hitting him more fully as an add jolt of awareness.

"It's not made of tin."

Rolling his eyes Blake muttered over the fact that Bane continually focused on the wrong portion of their conversations. And then he informed Bane that he could suit himself, and gave the mercenary his back as he turned his attention to retrieving the shampoo, pouring some into his hand and then turning his attention to rubbing it into his hair.

Bane stayed where he was the whole time, watching him bathe, and only when Blake was done did he turn and step out of the shower so that Blake could do the same.

As soon as he was out Blake wrapped a towel around his waist even though it was a lost cause at this point, then retrieved another. And threw it at Bane.

"Dry off before you get sick and die on me. Who knows what your men would do without you around to hold their leashes."

Blake waited for the crack about how that was the only reason he would care about Bane's health, and wasn't sure what to think when it didn't come and Bane just walked out of the room without a word.

)

Leaning against the counter as he watched Blake heat up leftovers for the both of them, Barsad debated what to say and how to say it since he really didn't want to have to say anything at all. But Bane was in the gym, wearing soaking wet pants and nothing else while he worked out like a man possessed, and when he'd tried to interfere and point out the obvious hazards of what he was doing Bane had literally growled at him, and threatened to tear his head off his neck if he didn't leave him the hell alone. He'd been dead serious. And now here was Blake, looking peeved and moody, not at all in the Christmas spirit despite the fact that the idiot had been obsessing over this Christmas thing since he'd realized its imminent arrival. He had also noticed, and wished he hadn't, the slight hitch in the other man's stride as he moved around the kitchen, not to mention the slight winces when he'd had to squat down to get something from the lower shelves in the fridge and cupboards.

The detective's sleeves were rolled up, and he'd gotten a good look at all the skin Blake was currently showing. There was no sign the man had been restrained, beaten or had been in a fight. The only obvious wound on Bane had been bruising from a bite on his neck. Add in his own beliefs when it came to Bane's code where rape was concerned and he was either looking at a case where the two had had sex and were hating each other and themselves over it, or had almost had sex and something had gone wrong. He did not want to think of all the ways that could go wrong, especially since he'd put his money on Bane being the one who screwed things up out of eagerness and inexperience.

"Careful, keep making faces like that and your ugly mug might get permanently uglier."

Giving Blake a look that conveyed how unfunny he thought the other man was, Barsad was about to tell Blake to hurry up with the food when his senses, tuned to always know where Bane was, clued him into the other man's presence. And so with no time to second guess himself, Barsad took a leap of faith.

"So are you and Bane pissed at each other because you had sex, or because you both want it and keep pissing each other off to keep your hormones in line?"

"And that would be any of your fucking business because…?"

"Because I said I'd kill you if you become a threat to him."

Turning away from the microwave Blake gave him a scorching look. "You know, for once it might be grand, to have someone understand, the fucking fact that I'm a fucking hostage here! If you damn well don't want me around then just let me go or put a bullet in my goddamn head! If he's off PMSing wherever he is, then that's because he's an assehole who thinks everything I do is to fuck with him. Which is not my fault!"

Layering on the sarcasm Barsad smirked. "And let me guess, you want the usual things before you'll forgive him for your latest fight. Flowers, chocolate, promises he doesn't intend to keep."

The twitch of Blake's lips showed he was struggling not to smirk, losing the battle so that he ended up smiling just a little bit. "Dammit. You're good, I'll give you that. You piss me off almost as much as he does."

"You and I would both sooner walk across the ice then fuck each other. That helps."

"It does indeed." Blake snorted out. "And I get that he's naturally more cynical and dark then I am, and that his people skills go to crap on a one on one level, but you seriously need to make him get a fucking clue when it comes to the fact that I am not some fucking Mata Hari before we kill each other."

"You'd fail if you tried."

"You know what I mean, Assehole."

"No one's ever wanted him for himself. Only what he could give them. You might factor that in."

"Yeah, I know he had the life from hell, which I wouldn't wish on anyone, and the shit I had to deal with as a kid seriously pales in comparison, but-"

When Blake just stood there without finishing his sentence, wearing the oddest look on his face and obviously a million miles away, Barsad waited a good three minutes and then snapped a finger in front of the other man's face.

That got Blake's attention. "I hate when people do that."

"I hate when people trail off in the middle of a sentence. Where'd you go?"

"I just realized how completely and totally I'm Fortune's bitch this winter. And karma's a bitch too, FYI."

It was Barsad's turn to be slightly amused, though he remembered well what it was to be Fortune's bitch. "I would agree with those statements. Had an epiphany, did you?"

"Yup." Blake shook his head, joining Barsad in leaning back against the cupboards so that they were almost shoulder to shoulder. "There's been this nagging voice in the back of mind for a while now, this feeling that there's something very familiar about the way Bane behaves around me when he gets all 'You're just trying to manipulate and use me' on my ass. It's me. He's me when I was a kid, and stuck in foster homes. This is my payback, karma smacking me in the ass for being such a little shit back then."

Barsad couldn't help it, he literally roared with laughter over the comparison and accompanying mental images, his arms wrapping around his waist to try and hold his merriment in.

When he stopped though, the dim remembrance that Bane was nearby finally kicking in, Barsad tried to take what Blake had just said a little further before he busted another gut. "So now you know how he's feeling, and why he reacts as he does."

The scowl Blake gave him made it clear that yes, yes he'd connected the dots in his mind.

"Fine, fine. I'll cut him some slack. Your point's been made, Assehole. He has the maturity of an emotionally stunted twelve year old when it comes to me. I got it."

"A little older than that, since he does want to fuck you."

"That I know, thanks."

"Yeah, I noticed. You really clamped down on him."

Jaw dropping Blake stared at him, his skin flushing bright red as he sputtered and sputtered some more before understanding dawned. "Oh, you meant…the teeth…yeah, it seemed like the thing to do at the time."

In direct opposition to Blake's reaction Barsad noticeably paled. "Okay, yeah, let's stop talking about this now. The mental images are getting to be too much. If you guys are fucking, or when you are, I'll poison you both if you start telling me the details." And thank God, Barsad mentally added, that he'd dismantled the bugs he'd found in Blake's room while the other man had been watching his movie with Bane last night.

Blake's grin turned decidedly evil. "I'll keep that in mind the next time you piss me off."

"Now you're the assehole."

"And you're the lackey to my emotionally stunted…bane."

Wisely they turned their attention to the food after that, and Barsad knew exactly when Bane left them as well, hopefully to go upstairs and get changed.

)

Bane had showered and changed into a fresh pair of khaki pants, not bothering with a new shirt at the moment as he sat on his bed with his back pressed back against the headboard, his hands holding Osito on his lap. He couldn't help but think of what his bear had looked like prior to his arrival in Gotham, badly stitched together and looking very much the worse for wear. Then Blake had gotten ahold of him and now he looked neatly put together, the red sweater making Osito appear far prettier and somehow happier than he'd looked in a very long time.

Talia thought he couldn't trust Blake, that the detective would do whatever it took to seduce him into setting him free or letting himself be used. But Talia didn't know Blake the way he did, knew him only through the data they'd collected on the cop and his own comments about him. The conversation he'd overheard earlier, that Barsad had wanted him to hear because Bane knew his second would have been aware of his presence, suggested that Barsad didn't agree with Talia. That he thought Blake's desire for him was as genuine as his own. Barsad was wise and not easily fooled, not to mention he'd spent actually time around Blake, to the point where the two were somewhat friendly to the other, insults and all.

And on this particular mission he would be wiser to trust Barsad than Talia because she was so emotionally invested in the destruction of Gotham and its occupants. Barsad only cared about what was best for himself, Bane, and the success of his orders.

Yet perhaps Blake had charmed Barsad too, so that his second didn't realize that like Bane he was falling under the spell Blake seemed to have casted over him so effortlessly. It was a possibility he couldn't ignore, even though Blake wouldn't appeal to Barsad in the same way. Or would he? The cop seemed to have a talent for making the formerly uninterested very interested.

A knock at the door.

Setting his bear back on the bedside table Bane gave leave for to enter, assuming it would be Barsad. But it was Blake who came walking into his room with a tray in one hand, switching to holding it with both hands when he was through the door.

As he got closer Bane saw that there was a large plate on the tray, loaded down with food that he guessed was from the feast Blake had made the day before for Christmas. There was also a bottle of water, a smaller plate with cookies on it, and a folded piece of paper.

Walking over to the bed Blake set the tray down beside Bane's stretched out legs. "Barsad said you wouldn't drink anything but the water, the note's him signing off on the fact that he supervised me putting this together and that I didn't add any poison. I thought that might be necessary. If you aren't going to eat it tell me know and I will. I don't like food being wasted."

"Was this his idea, or yours?"

"Mine. You gotta eat, and I made a lot." Blake shoved his hands in his pockets in a show of agitation. "Do you want it or not?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, eat up. I'll see you when I see you." Turning around Blake headed for the door, intending to leave him alone since they both knew Bane wouldn't take off the mask and starting eating until he was gone and couldn't see.

"Robin."

Glancing over his shoulder Blake gave him a questioning look. "Yeah?"

"I'm…sorry…if I ruined your Christmas."

A thoughtful pause, and then Blake flashed a grin in his direction. "A really good orgasm isn't going to ruin my holiday, far from it. Now hurry up and eat that food before it gets cold."

Bane didn't try to stop Blake this time, watching the other man leave and shut the door behind him, waiting until Blake had time to walk away before he removed his mask and set it aside, grabbing the tray and setting it on his lap.

The brief and to the point note Barsad had written regarding the food made his smile widen, and the food…well it warmed him from the inside out and kept him smiling for the duration of his meal.


	23. I've Got My Eye On

I've Got My Eye On

After consuming his own meal downstairs Blake headed outside and ignoring the fact that Barsad was keeping close by found himself a snowbank, turned around to give it his back, and then let gravity do its thing as he leaned backwards and tumbled into the mound of snow. And stayed there, remaining quiet except for assuring Barsad that he was fine when the mercenary came over to find out what the heck he was doing. Even with his eyes closed Blake knew the other man was rolling his eyes at him, but Barsad didn't prod him for further explanation and that was the main thing as Blake remained right where he was, ignoring the coolness of the snow even as some of it slipped under his coat to dribble down his neck, his thoughts far more important than a little discomfort.

Mainly…what the hell was going to do if Bane took what had happened the night before and this morning as an invitation for future sexual encounters?

He wasn't a tease, or at least not in the sense of not following through after the teasing, so this wasn't exactly a situation he knew how to handle from past experience. Frankly he'd been so mad at Bane before that he'd acted rashly, without thinking, and that had led to the showering incident. The very pleasurable incident that he really wouldn't mind repeating on a purely physical level, but which probably wasn't a good idea on an intellectual level, which was what he needed to think about now.

Odds were he was a dead man walking, and it wasn't like he was suddenly thinking about marrying Bane, becoming his little wife, and giving him six or seven big strapping boys just like him. He couldn't get pregnant, obviously, and if he got an STD at this point…well he wouldn't have it long before he was ash on the ground. This wasn't a case of Stockholm Syndrome either, though his choice would be so much easier to make if that were the case. And when it came to his actions harming others, well in the end the only one harmed by his decision either way were the two of them.

And maybe Barsad since the bastard couldn't seem to stop sticking his nose into things, Blake mentally added with a grimace, deciding then and there that he was going to chuck a snowball at the mercenary before he headed inside as punishment. He'd still be happily pissed at Bane if the bastard hadn't caused him to have his stupid epiphany. But since mentally bashing Barsad was something he could do all day, it wasn't like the mercenary hadn't given him plenty to work with, Blake forced his mind to go back to his original musings since that couldn't wait for later.

Ergo, time to make his treacherous mind go back to the question of what he was going to do if Bane decided to join him in bed or the shower again while gorgeously naked and wanting to give him more delicious orgasms.

Scratch the thought about orgasms, Blake ordered himself, he'd never get any good thinking done if he did.

So there was the matter of his superiors, not to mention Batman finding out, but seriously, he could not imagine a situation where he met up with any of them and they asked him about his recent sex life. Far more likely they'd meet, if they met at all, before or during a major gunfight, a citywide war that would take precedent over his personal life because really, this wasn't a fairy tale where such things took a back seat to the realities of life. And if for some odd reason said conversation did take place, well it wasn't like his years in foster care hadn't taught him how to lie through his pearly whites. He didn't doubt for a minute that he could look any of his superiors in the eye and tell them 'No, Sir, not me, I guarantee it' if they asked if he'd gotten sexually involved with Bane.

The Batman probably would see through him, they were just too damn much alike in some ways, but in that case he'd just point out that there were plenty of things he could throw in Wayne's face as proof that he was one to talk when it came to making bad life choices.

But seriously, he couldn't see those conversations coming to pass expect in the form of them asking if he'd been raped while in Bane's custody, which he'd be able to say in absolute honesty had not been the case. So really, when he really thought about it, the only way he could see them finding out that he'd slept with Bane willingly was if Bane told them as a way of punishing him or twisting the knife so to speak. And if that happened…he would personally so put lead into that tight ass, and he wouldn't feel an ounce of regret for the brief moments he'd have left before Barsad took him out.

Yeah, he was definitely checking a snowball at Barsad's head.

Grinning at the thought and the mental image of the mercenary's face, this was gonna be good, Blake sat up and shook his head, dislodging some of the snow embedded in it.

Then making a snowball as covertly as he could manage Blake very carefully stood up once it was completed, got a mental sense of exactly where Barsad was behind him, and then whirling around threw the ball as hard as he could in the mercenary's direction.

Without missing a beat Barsad drew out a gun and fired, the snowball exploding in midair with not even the debris so much as brushing against the other man as the flakes hit the ground once more.

Pause. "Well that was both cool and disappointing."

"Don't do it again."

"Or you'll….?"

"I'm not going to seriously injure you so that you can use that as an excuse to turn away from Bane." Barsad's reply was as cold as the snow he'd just avoided while he returned the gun to its holster. "But I could quite happily make it impossible for you to run if you want to push me. I'm sure Bane would appreciate the easy access."

Blake's jaw dropped. "Are you threatening to kneecap me if I throw a snowball at you?"

"The correct term is limb punishment shooting."

"If I'd liked you before this would change that." Just imagining how much that would hurt had Blake paling a little, especially when he realized something else. "You don't consider that a serious injury?"

Barsad just smirked, knowing that he'd won this round. A nice change of pace to his way of thinking.

"Sadist bastard."

)

A short while later, after warming up with some hot chocolate and cookies with his sadist bastard of a babysitter, Blake opted to head up to his room for the time being. Turning on Christmas music, though he kept it to low, background music this time, Blake smiled as the cheery sound warmed him more than the chocolate as he walked over to his tree and got down on his knees before rolling over and stretching out on his back with his head under the tree.

The bright lights, the music and the scent of pine, yeah, he was good for the moment.

So of course Bane decided to come in less than ten minutes after he'd laid down, the sound of the other man's heavy steps cluing Blake in to who was visiting, so that he didn't bother to stick his head out from under the pine tree's boughs.

"What are you doing?"

"Communing with Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Come again."

Rolling his eyes Blake shook his head at the both of them. "I'm relaxing under my tree. And to answer your next question Obi-Wan Kenobi is a character from the Star Wars movies. In the good ones he acted as a spiritual guide sometimes. I was just being sarcastic."

"And you are in need of spiritual guidance?"

"I'm in need of many things, but I suppose that's one of them. What about you? Something I can help you with?"

Instead of answering Bane walked over and then copied his earlier actions, stretching out so they were shoulder to shoulder, their heads both turned so that they could meet each other's gaze before Blake turned his head to its early position, Bane doing the same.

"Perhaps I can help you."

Blake had to snort. "I don't think you're really the person I should be debating with when it comes to whether or not I should let you fuck me."

Dead silence greeted that statement, and when Blake couldn't help but turn his head to meet Bane's gaze again he found the mercenary looking at him like he'd just suggested he have a sex change.

Laughter. Peals and peals of laughter bubbled up from Blake's throat in reaction to the funniest expression he'd ever seen on anyone's face, much less Bane's. The sound of his laughter spilling out in bright merriment was the happiest sounds the room had ever heard as his dimples came up and Blake's whole body heaved and shook in response as he gave himself completely over to his amusement at Bane's expense.

Though when he did finally get himself under control Bane's eyes revealed nothing, what was visible of his face shuttered as well.

"Sorry….but if you could have seen the look in your eyes..." Shaking his head as he got himself mostly under control, no easy thing, Blake's voice still rang with amusement as he stated that it was a pity about the mask, it would have been so much funnier if he'd gotten the full effect.

"Is that why you said that in the first place?"

It took Blake a moment, but putting two and two together he decided that he was in too good of a mood now to fight. "No, I was serious. If I just wanted to make you make toon eyes at me I would have told you that I was actually born in France, as a girl, but had a sex change to avoid the amorous intentions of an evil guy named Gaston."

And okay, he was back to uncontrollable laughter. Priceless. Absolutely priceless.

With the thought being to get the full affect Blake reached over to finger the mask, not really surprised when his wrist was caught before his fingers could do more that brush over the straps holding the mask in place.

This time he didn't say anything though. Instead he just waited to see what Bane would do with the hand he'd captured. And when Bane let go and laced their fingers together instead he was surprised, but he didn't jerk his hand away either, allowing the hold before turning his attention back to the view above them.

"Are you ever going to let me see what you look like without that mask on?"

The pause gave Blake a moment of hope before it was dashed by the quiet no Bane gave him.

"I felt your mouth last night, so I know you've got some odd scarring that's misshaped your lips a bit, and your teeth aren't perfect, but I don't care about that. So I'm going to have to assume your refusal lies in your determination to be defined by that mask instead of what's underneath."

"It stays on."

For a long moment Blake gave serious thought to pointing out how childish and stupid Bane was being, but decided to aim for what would hurt the most, so to speak. And everyone knew, when it came to a manle anatomy, where to aim to do the most damage.

"Well if I can't have your mouth then my ass is off limits to your cock. And I'm not likely to suck it any time soon either."

And on that note Blake brought their joined hands up to his lips. And bit down lightly on the fleshy part of Bane's hand.

)

Staring over at Blake, how did this man so completely destroy his world and rearrange it so effortlessly, Bane struggled to process all the information he'd just been given. The idea that his bird had been lying here debating as to whether or not to let him touch again or not had been surprise enough without this latest statement about the fact that certain sexual acts were now no longer allowed because of his refusal to remove his mask while Blake could see him clearly. Since meeting the man and accepting that his attraction was physical he had done some research into what sexual relations between men were like so he did know that there were plenty of other things that were not included in Blake's banned list. Such as what they'd done this morning.

But he wasn't a complete fool yet where his very smart little bird was concerned.

"And why would you let me touch you?"

"Are we really going to have to have another talk about the fact that I don't fuck people for personal gain? Because if we do I can't guarantee I won't punch you, Christmas or not." For emphasis Blake let go of his hand. "And that would ruin my Christmas, since I'd probably break my fucking hand on your jaw."

"The more often you say fuck the more mad you are at me."

"Give the man a medal." Was Blake's sarcastic reply to that one before he maneuvered himself out from under the tree, getting to his feet so that for once he towered over Bane. "So are we fighting or are you going to get it in your head that the only reason I haven't jumped you at this point is the fact that I have a fairly decent conscience, which has some problems with me sleeping with a mass murderer slash terrorist."

Taking the insults without a hint that they'd so much as registered, it wasn't like he hadn't been called such things before and worse, Bane got to his feet, needing to feel in a position of control as he looked down at Blake, staring into those brown eyes that met his with such open heat and defiance. That the room buzzed with the chemistry they shared, giving life to the air like just before a lightning storm, made the precipice they seemed to be standing on that much more dangerous.

"And you've decided you can be with a mass murderer?"

"What I've done is remind myself of the fact that I promised myself that I'd live a life free of regret because I had so much to regret when I was a kid. And the more I think about it, the more sure I am that if I die in next week or in a month…I'd regret trying to ignore the fact that I've never wanted someone the way I want you."

Not knowing what to say to that Bane just stared.

Which Blake apparently interpreted the wrong way judging by his next words.

"No, it's not Stockholm Syndrome. Believe me, I think what you're doing to Gotham is as fucked up and wrong now as I did before I'd even met you. Though I would probably visit you in prison, should that happen, though you're more the die fighting sort of guy, right?"

He would not allow anyone to lock him away again, but Bane was nonetheless curious. "And what would you tell them, when they asked why you wanted to see me?"

"The truth."

Moving in closer Bane deliberately crowded Blake in as he asked him just what that truth was.

"That no matter what they think you're not evil or a monster. You're a fanatic who tried to change the world for the better in a really stupid, misguided way."

Using his body Bane had Blake backed up against a wall before the detective even seemed to realize what he was doing, and then it was too late thanks to Bane's body mass and the fact that Bane's fingers were wrapped around his neck, holding him in place.

"Most would say you're a stupid, misguided fool to speak to me that way."

"I'm not afraid to die by your hand or get blown to bits by your bomb." Rather than struggle Blake remained perfectly still under his hand, his gaze unflinching. "Afraid for the people whose lives you hold in your hands, yes, and afraid for you and the price you'll pay for all this. But me? No. You planning to send me to my maker tonight, Bane?"

"So eager to die?"

"Some, including me, would say what you're doing suggests a much bigger suicide wish than me standing up to you."

Everything hinging on his next question, Bane took a moment before asking it, bracing for the answer.

"And would you mourn or celebrate my death?"

"I'd mourn you."

Believing him, and that was a hard but good jolt to his system as for the first time Bane truly allowed himself to believe that he mattered to Blake even if his little bird didn't like it. The fact that he questioned this as much as he had…that made this real.

Bane loosened his grip, fingers ever so slightly stroking the skin beneath his finger pads. "Then I'm sleeping in here with you from now on. So long as you're here."

"And how long do you think that will be?"

"Until I say otherwise."

"Okay."

Wanting to kiss the man more than he wanted to take his next breath, Bane had to settle for drawing Blake into his arms, closing his eyes in utter contentment when he was at least allowed to hold him and keep him close.

At least for now.

)

Chapter twenty-one's reference was Blake's use of Lumiere's introduction to the song 'Be Our Guest' when Bane confronts him in the shower, and chapter twenty two was Blake's 'for once it might be grand' lines while talking to Barsad and Barsad quoting Cogsworth's lines to the Beast on how to get into Belle's good books. This chapter is Blake's referring to himself as little wife and describing having six or seven strapping boys, the 'No, Sir, not me' line, and the obvious one of Blake joking that he used to be a French girl hiding from a guy named Gaston.

As always, fireworkmage, you're the best for catching my extras. Serious kudos.


	24. Takes Cheap Shots

Takes Cheap Shots

For the next few days Bane did exactly as he said, coming to Blake's bed every night and sleeping there with him like it was his right to do so. In the dark they inevitably moved in close to the other, kisses to skin and seeking touches following, one or both occasionally getting the other off with their hands or rubbing off on each other before going back to sleep. Or pretending to, as was often the case at first. The shift in their relationship was never discussed come morning, and this went on until the final day of December, New Year's Eve.

That morning Blake woke up to an empty bed, his hand moving over the space he'd come to think of as Bane's side, to find the sheets cool already, no sign of Bane's warmth lingering there.

The fact that that depressed him depressed Blake that much more and set the tone for his morning, so that he barely spoke more than a few words to Barsad and spent most of his time until noon in a funk with his thoughts dark and focused solely on the fact that this was going to be his last New Year's. He might not know his exact expiry date at this point, but there was no way he had another year to live. Bane was going to see to that.

He'd worked last New Year's, the streets filled with people too drunk or high to know their asses from their heads, much less what was and wasn't illegal for them to do in public. It had been a miserable night actually, he'd had a beer bottle thrown at his head, been called the whole alphabet of derogatory terms out there in at least three different languages, and he'd missed the count down completely. Actually, when he thought about it, he couldn't remember the last time he'd celebrated the whole counting down the new year in style the way everyone was supposed to according to movies and the multitudes of people who'd lectured him about his complete lack of a social life.

The fact that he didn't drink and therefore was usually the only non-drunk person at regular parties besides the designated drivers so rarely registered with people.

And it was that thought that led to another, and from there another until Blake's mind was solely focused on the fact that if ever there was a time to get rip roaring drunk, it was now. It was New Year's Eve, he was going to die, and if he wasn't horribly mistaken, which he hoped he was, he was seriously gone over Bane the way he'd never been gone over a guy before. So yeah…it was definitely time to get drunk.

Of course not being drunk yet it did occur to him that he had no idea what kind of a drunk he'd be, and that did give Blake some pause. He'd only recently gotten out of uniform and become a detective, he'd broken up more D and Ds, bar fights, and seen people broken, bleeding and often dead as a result of someone's inability to know when enough was enough far, far too often. His dad had been a sad drunk, inclined to wallow in his miseries and gamble in a brainless attempt to 'improve' their life while actually making it that much worse. So the idea of being a depressing or violent drunk was not at all appealing, especially given his present mood. A happy drunk would be much better, or even an amorous one, Blake acknowledged with a smirk, imagining what would happen if he were drunk enough to actually hit on Barsad. Bane seemed to think it was only a matter of time after all, and a quick death at the mercenary's hands certainly wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him in the long run.

So yeah. Actually, change that to hell yeah, Blake mentally shouted as he bounced to his feet. He was getting good and smashed tonight!

A man on a mission now, Blake headed off in search of alcohol, knowing just where to look having explored the house quite thoroughly during his captivity. Arriving at the large bar in the basement area Blake started grabbing bottles at random, lining them up on the main bar for him to study and look over.

He had no idea what to pick.

Most of the names weren't even ones he really knew, the mansion's former occupants not the type to carry the regular stuff he was used to seeing in bars and in the homes of former foster parents and suspects. And even if the names had been familiar he didn't know what types he liked because he had never tried more than the occasional sip at celebrations where he'd had to drink a little out of politeness. He'd certainly never forced down quality stuff.

Even the beer was fancy, not that he was going to try that. He'd tried a sip of that before and found it absolutely disgusting. When he'd complained about how nasty it was he'd been informed that it was an acquired taste, where you grew to like it after a while because of your reaction to it. His opinion that you shouldn't have to build up an immunity to a taste had been laughed and shrugged off.

But really, the most experience he'd had when it came to alcohol consumption was when he'd been twelve and he and a couple of the other kids he'd been living with in foster care had helped themselves to Jell-O in the fridge, completely unaware of the fact that a great deal of alcohol had been added to them until their foster mother had freaked on them. He hadn't gotten drunk off them despite his extreme love for Jell-O, but he had been in a pretty good mood despite being yelled at for the rest of the day.

Jell-O.

Oh man was he having the best ideas ever today!

Punching his fist into the air in victory Blake ignored the names, focused on the alcohol content listed, and then selected four bottles and headed for the kitchen.

He had some Jell-O to make.

)

Barsad stood waiting for Bane in the front entrance in the early hours of New Year's Day, having been informed of his leader's ETA moments before. He could only pray, and boy was he mentally praying, that Blake didn't get into any trouble in the short time he was away from the cop. As it was he'd given serious thought to having one of the outside guards meet Bane and explain the situation, but keeping the outside completely secure was more important than any trouble Blake might get into in the next five minutes or so. The annoying brat wasn't suicidal or violent after all. Far from it in fact.

But still, Bane wasn't going to like this. He wasn't going to like this one little bit.

Of course he'd also gotten the feeling that Bane had wanted to stay here all day, and would have if Talia hadn't insisted that Bane join her to toast in the new and last year of Gotham's existence in the world which had left him the dubious pleasure of ringing in the new year with Bane's cop. Watching the idiot get drunk off his ass on wiggly, brightly colored squares for a couple hours, followed by getting covered in the stupid confetti the idiot had cut up when the cop had thrown it into the air around them as the clock had switched over and into the next year…oh yeah, loads and loads of fun.

Shaking his head at the thought of what they would be faced with in this new year, especially if tonight marked a change in how Blake was going to deal with his present captivity, Barsad was braced for the worst when Bane walked into through the door, the man asking the same question he asked every night, which was where Blake was and if he was asleep.

"In his room. He's drunk."

"He said he doesn't drink."

"He's mentioned that. A number of times in the last few hours. He decided to rectify that situation tonight."

Eyes narrowing as he shrugged off his coat Bane kneaded the material with his fingers for several thoughtful moments before asking what condition the other man was in.

"He ate well beforehand, and he's been alternating his alcohol intake with water. He's already put out stuff to deal with the hangover he's going to have tomorrow…and was pathetic enough to get drunk via gelatin laced with a variety of liquors. Which he is still eating last time I checked." He'd tried to take the stuff from him earlier and had taken red goop to the face as a result. If the idiot hadn't been drunk he'd have done some not very nice things in retaliation.

"And why didn't you stop him?"

Having expected that question, and not wanting to discuss the mini food fight, Barsad answer was prompt and to the point. He'd been ordered to keep Blake alive and in the house. Not to prevent the cop from overindulging. What went unsaid was the fact that he'd been a little curious in the beginning as to what Blake would be like if drunk.

That he preferred the man sober was a lesson learned.

"Remove all alcohol from the premises. None is to be brought in for him or anyone on the premise either."

"I'll see to it."

A pause, and then Bane told him that he was off duty. He could see to it in the morning.

"Yes, Sir. I'll see you then." Cocking his head in acknowledgement of his orders and dismissal, Barsad headed out of the hallway towards the kitchen, leaving Bane to head upstairs to deal with the drunk off his ass detective.

He was almost sorry he was about to miss the conversation the other two were about to have if Blake hadn't passed out already.

)

Leaving his coat slung over the stair railing, he'd deal with it later, Bane headed straight for his Robin's room while his mind churned with the possibilities of what he might find when he opened the other man's door. He assumed that Blake wasn't currently a danger to himself, Barsad wouldn't have left him alone if that were the case, but someone operating under the influence of alcohol, particularly when he had no experience with it or knowledge of his limit, was neither rational nor consistent.

Not bothering to knock Bane stepped into the room, noting both the fact that a topless Robin was lying on a currently confetti strewn bed laughing hysterically, and that the television was on and holding the cop's complete attention.

That said cop seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he had company was a major tip off of just how out of it Blake actually was, Bane walking over to take a seat on the side of the bed as he waited to see how long it took for his presence to be noticed.

It didn't actually take that long, but the dark brown eyes he'd come to love were glassy and unfocused when they turned to meet his gaze.

"Hey. Canadians are fucking hilarious, did you know that? I totally didn't know that." Not waiting for an answer or comment Blake went back to watching the screen. "I went online to find a good New Year's movie, there's like none except for that stupid one with Aston Kutcher in it and I fucking hate that guy. Katherine Heigl too, though Josh Duhamel is pretty easy on the eyes. So yeah, this one site promoted this whole 'Royal Canadian Air Farce' thing, they do these New Year's specials every year so I downloaded them and I've been watching them. They're fucking awesome. They have this thing called a chicken cannon, and they took a bat to some furbies. I always said those toys were creepy little fuckers."

Raising an eyebrow over the constant use of the word 'fuck', normally Blake watched his language better unless he was upset which he didn't appear to be, Bane asked the cop just how much liquor he'd had.

"Fuck if I know." Was Blake's cheerful response before holding out a Tupperware container that was half full of brightly covered squares of gelatin. "Want really good Jell-O?"

Grabbing the container out of the man's hand Bane twisted around to set it aside on the bedside table before giving Blake a stern look as he informed him that he wasn't getting any more Jell-O.

"Awwwww. Someone needs to teach you to share. And smile. You never smile. Or at least I don't think you do behind that tin can you wear on your face. You're never going to get laid if you don't let me see you smile, no way, no fucking how. When you come in here you should give me a dashing, debonair smile. Come, come, show me the smile. I'll let you fuck me if you do."

It occurred to him that Robin was so drunk at this point he could tell the man he was smiling and he might be believed, but Bane also didn't want to be hated by his cop, and he would be if he took advantage of the state he was in. So instead he said that no, he wouldn't be smiling tonight.

"Knew it." Looking smugly over his shoulder Blake grinned at him. "That's why I offered. And it's totally your fucking loss too being I am fucking amazing in bed. I could get you written testimony to that fact if I wasn't locked up here. Though you probably blew some of them up, assehole." Pause. "OH! CHICKEN CANNON! Wahooo!"

Turning his gaze to the television Bane listened as the man dressed in a fake military uniform announced that the voted chicken cannon target of two thousand and two was President George W Bush.

Watching the picture of the former American president get covered in oil, barbecue sauce, sugar, and what he assumed was fake horse manure was amusing, Bane was willing to admit, especially when the contents were shot out of a mini canon, but since this apparently signaled the end of the show Bane stated that Blake had watched enough television and should now take his aspirin and some more water before going to sleep.

"Bane, you are positively primeval."

The word choice not making sense to him, Bane asked if Blake even knew what that word primeval meant.

"That you're really evil?"

Chuckling, Bane shook his head. "No. It's another way or saying someone or something is ancient or primitive. As in related to the earliest stages of history."

"Huh. The things you learn. I thought it was prime and evil mushed together weirdly." Also amused now Blake flopped back onto the bed, apparently too drunk to try and remain upright for very long.

Eyes naturally moving over all that exposed skin, especially since his bird was stretched out and spread out for him like a banquet ready to be feasted on, Bane's hands literally itched to touch even though he knew it would be wrong of him. Tonight of all nights he had to keep his hands to himself where Robin was concerned.

"I can feel you eye fucking me you know. I'm not that drunk. Well no I am…but still…"

And on that statement Blake very unsteadily got up and crawled over in Bane's direction, Bane freezing first in surprise and then shock as the other man slid into his lap and then curled up against him like a small child or pet would. "Robin?"

"When you hold me all the bad stuff goes away. Which is just stupid cause you bring the bad stuff, but then I'm just stupid about you. You smell good."

And on that note his Robin passed out on him, leaving Bane to put him to bed.

Though once Bane was under the covers too he pulled Robin back into his arms, holding him chose to keep the bad stuff away. Even though yes, he was the one who'd brought the bad stuff to him too.

)

Blearily opening one eye the next morning, Blake took stock of his present situation, knowing on some level that there was going to be something different about this morning. Oh his head hurt. Whimpering as he closed his one eye Blake wallowed in his misery for several minutes before belatedly remembering the fact that he'd prepared for this eventuality the night before. Feeling around on his bedside table he eventually located the drugs, thank God, and swallowing them down straight waited until he was fairly sure he wouldn't throw them up before attempting to sit up and open his eyes again.

His head was pounding, but he didn't feel like hurling chunks everywhere which was good. He'd been expecting that to be a large part of his morning the way it had been his father's. The eating well beforehand and drinking lots of water had definitely been-fuck he had to pee.

With much groaning and cursing Blake tossed aside the blankets and staggered over to the bathroom where he took care of his abused bladder, then showered long enough to wake him up completely and give the drugs time to start working away at his headache. Then it was some serious teeth brushing to remove all traces of the nasty taste he had in his mouth, followed by a return to his bedroom to get dressed for the day.

Once all that was completed Blake turned his attention to trying to remember what he'd gotten up to during his one and definitely only brush with being drunk.

Huh. A lot of it was pretty blurry. He remembered…the chicken cannon thing, which had been awesome if progressively harder to follow, stopping the shows to celebrate the changing of the year with the confetti he'd made, throwing some of his Jell-O at Barsad when the bastard tried to take it away from him…and Bane had come in at some point and given him an English lesson?

Bane.

Looking over in the direction of the bed Blake's gaze lingered there for a moment and then he dismissed the whole thing as unimportant. His ass was in too good a shape for anything to have happened there and he was fairly sure that Bane wouldn't have taken advantage of him anyway. Not the mercenary's style.

And seeing the time on the clock Blake noted it was nearly time for lunch.

Huh. Maybe he'd go see what Barsad was up to. And throw some Jell-O at him too if there was any left. The jerk's expression last night had been priceless.


	25. One Lump Or Two?

One Lump or Two?

Of all the conversations he and Bane had had since he'd come to be kidnapped and imprisoned in the terrorist's current place of residence, Blake was fairly sure the 'Why He Wasn't Allowed Alcohol Ever Again' speech was going to go down as one of the most amusing ones in his books. Mostly because he'd made it clear he wasn't a regular drinker, much less an alcoholic, but given how smashed he'd gotten the night before Blake could understand the impulse to lecture on the topic. No, what was really amusing about all this was the fact that Bane was lecturing him about all the reasons why he shouldn't become an alcoholic when really, he was going to be nothing but ash soon enough so it didn't really matter whether he got inebriated or not. In fact, some would argue that facing death while drunk would not be a bad way to go by any means. Though yes, the way he was currently scheduled to die meant that he wasn't likely to feel physical pain, but the mental sort was certainly on the menu given his failure to protect his city, his other regrets, and first and foremost the fact that he'd fallen for the man directly responsible for the fact that he was going to be blown to pieces in the first place.

Of course when he pointed out that he was going to die soon and his blood alcohol levels wouldn't mean a damn, Bane just got coldly angry at him and stated again, for what felt like the millionth time, that there would be no more alcohol for him.

"Since you stated at the beginning that you got rid of it all that's sort of a given, Bane. I mean it's not like I can just walk down to the corner store and get more. Sort of your captive here, remember?"

More glaring from Bane.

"You know...given that I'm the hungover hostage with a limited time left on this planet...I should really be the one making those faces." Not to mention Bane treating him like a kid really pissed him off on a number of levels, not the least because it was creepy as hell to be lusting after a guy who was suddenly talking to you like he was your disapproving father.

Still glaring, he was not in the mood for his cop's rapier wit at the moment, Bane tried to make that as plain as possible even though he knew it probably wouldn't have any affect on the other man. "I am not in the best of moods right now, Robin. It would be unwise for you to push me."

Blake couldn't help but snort at that, slipping deeper and deeper into his teenage skin since he was being treated like one anyway. "Dude, you weigh well over two hundred pounds, easily. I couldn't push you properly if my life depended on it. Which...it sort of does." Darkly amused by that thought Blake smirked a little before turning his attention back to their present conversation. "And anyway, since I'm not allowed to drink my days away anymore, what do you propose I do with all my free time?"

To Blake's way of thinking the most obvious answer from Bane should have been that he'd managed to occupy himself just fine before he'd gotten drunk on alcohol laced Jello-O, so yeah, Blake totally wasn't expecting the answer he was given.

"I'll spend more time keeping an eye on you. Barsad will take over some of my duties." It was playing with fire, Bane knew, but he had come to some decisions during the night and he refused to change his mind now.

"Wait...you're the head bad guy...according to comic book and action movie rules you have to leave me in Barsad's care. How are you supposed to continue to rule Gotham if your men see you becoming a glorified babysitter?!"

"You don't like being watched by Barsad, and my men are no concern of yours."

"That's not the point!" Throwing his arms up and over his head, Blake shook his head in disbelief over the fact that Bane apparently didn't see just how bad an idea this actually was. "You can't be around to babysit me all day! Do you have any idea how bad that would be? Have you not been paying attention at all?! You'll either kill me prematurely, I'll have to end myself prematurely to save what little sanity I have left at this point, or we'll end up having lots and lots of really fantastic sex, and then we'll both be fucked in really bad ways even BEFORE that bomb goes off!"

It was hard to tell, but Blake was pretty sure Bane was developing a twitch under his eye because of him. Oh yeah, he'd definitely hit a nerve there, and his self-preservation instincts were kicking in just enough that he knew it wouldn't be a good idea for that twitch to continue.

Better late than never, aka time to shut his mouth, Blake decided.

After several moments of silence, not to mention some clenching and unclenching of fists at Bane's sides, the mercenary finally spoke in a very controlled, measured tone of voice. "We will spend the next few weeks training you. That is all."

Forgetting all about watching his words as this new horror registered, Blake immediately started shaking his head in protest. "Oh no, no, no, HELL NO. Training...not that again, no way, no how! Don't you remember what happened the last time you got that idea into your bald head?"

"I have not forgotten." Bane was, in fact, fairly sure he couldn't forget what had happened that night even if he wanted to. "That will not be repeated. Do you not wish to become stronger, Detective?"

"In the grand scheme of things there's a hell of a lot of things I'd rather have, thanks."

"Well I have decided that this is what we will do. You will obey me in this."

"And if I don't?"

Knowing his quarry well Bane moved in close so that they were as close to being eye to eye as they could get. "If you don't I will turn all my attention to the people of Gotham. And they will be tested and laid to waste in your place."

Now it was his turn to glare, and oh did Blake glare as he traded death glares with Bane, Blake huffing out a few appropriate swear words before backing down and agreeing to the training. "Though let it be known that I'm going on the record as stating that this is going to come back to bite us both in the ass."

"Noted."

)

Bane had drawn up a schedule for the two of them, detailing how they would spend their time together every day, and though his bird had plenty to say about both the existence of said schedule itself and the contents of it, they both knew that Blake didn't have a whole lot of say in the matter so long as he had the boys' home to hold over the detective's head. And as much as he hated the idea of forcing Robin to do anything, and he did, this was for the man's own good even if Robin didn't see it that way.

Though one would think that the fact that he'd been willing to compromise his no desserts rule when it came to the meals they'd be eating would have earned him some credit in his detective's eyes, but no such luck. If they touched while in bed together during the first week of training it was purely accidental on Robin's part.

And while he missed the sexual contact more than he could say, the point of the matter was that he wanted to spend as much as time with Robin as possible while making the other man as physically and mentally strong as he could so that when the time came to leave Gotham in ruins, he would either be able to take Robin with him if he would come, or insure that his man lived to fight another day in another city. But since he had yet to figure out how to convince Talia to allow him to spare Blake either way when he didn't hold with their ideologies or support them, Bane thought it best not to clue Robin in about either possibility least he fail.

"I hate you. Just so we're clear."

Looking down at the detective, who was lying face down on the mat and once again refusing to move so much as a muscle, Bane didn't take the words personally at this point. Robin was stating that quite often these days, particularly when he they were sparring. Which was what they'd been doing up until he'd taken the detective down once again, with Robin staying down rather than getting up so that they could continue.

"You're fine. Get up."

"No."

"They'll be no dessert if you refuse to get up."

Blake found just enough strength to lift up a hand and give Bane the finger.

"Now you're just being childish."

"Am I now? Well then, Daddy, what are you going to do about it? Send me to bed without one of your disgustingly bland and healthy dinners?" Blake tilted his head to the side so that he could glare at Bane better. "Because I have no problem telling you where you can put that dinner, mon ami."

Glaring right back Bane ordered Blake not to call him Daddy. Given the feelings he had for the cop the idea of being called that was wrong on a number of levels.

"I'll call you whatever the hell I want with my dying breaths. And don't say I'm not dying, I could have internal injuries we're not aware of. In fact, I'd lay odds that there has to be at this point."

Shaking his head over how overly dramatic the boy was when he was even the slightest bit injured, Bane leaned down and slid his hands under the other man's armpits so that he could lift him up by them until he was standing straight while Robin just glared at him darkly while being held aloof.

"On your feet."

"You know, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure even Barsad would tell you this is not the way to win someone's affection, Bane. If I were a girl I'd be attempting to rack you right about now."

"I believe I already made it quite clear that I won't tolerate you acting childish. You're a grown man." Bane shook Blake a little for emphasis. "Now take your feet and prepare to defend yourself."

Glaring, Blake nodded and when Bane let go the cop stayed up on his feet, bringing his fists up to defend himself. "If you want me to talk more adult I'd be happy to swear at you some more. In fact, you should really teach me how to curse you out in all the languages you know. I'd actually pay attention."

Rather than justify that with an answer Bane threw a carefully thrown punch, pleased when Blake dodged it easily enough as they began to trade blows again. The detective might bitch and complain constantly, but his bird was too smart and competitive not to be learning from these matches on top of building up endurance, muscle, and muscle memory. The matches were lasting longer too, though Blake had yet to come close to doing any damage worth mentioning. He of course wasn't trying to do real damage, though there were healing bruises and new ones Blake had to ice down and care for every night. Though he'd had to do that for the detective the first couple nights as his bird hadn't been up to doing much moving.

When the door to the gym opened they both turned to look in that direction, Barsad standing in the doorway, motioning for Bane to come to him.

Walking over to find out what his second wanted, Bane learned that Talia had ordered him to report to her current safe house immediately to speak with her. The reason why would apparently be explained to him when he got there.

Nodding his head in acceptance of his orders Bane turned to look over in Blake's direction, not even that surprised to see that during the very short conversation the detective had decided to sprawl out on the training mat rather than stand. Shaking his head over that sorry fact Bane considered siccing Barsad on him just to teach his Robin a lesson about just how much harder a taskmaster he could be, but decided against it. Selfish as it was, he wanted to be Robin's only teacher.

"I'm going out. You have the rest of the night to do as you please."

Blake's response was sarcastic and meant to be as annoying as possible. "Yay!"

Asking some higher power to give him strength where his bird was concerned, Bane left the room with Barsad following after him, leaving Blake behind to do what he wanted. As they headed towards the front door Bane gave the usual orders to keep an eye on Blake for him, and report any trouble to him immediately.

"Given the shape he's in at the moment, I doubt that will be a problem. Anything I need to patch up?"

Bane shook his head. "No."

Having reached the front door Barsad opened it for Bane. "I'll keep him safe until you return."

"I'll be back as soon as possible."

Barsad thought about saying that he knew that already, but he simply nodded and then closed the door behind his leader once Bane had stepped out. And though he wasn't remotely a religious man, Barsad took a moment to look towards the ceiling and sent up a short prayer to any deity that might be listening, asking for just a little more time.

Just a little more time to try and undo what Talia had put into motion.

)

Choosing to stay right where he was for a while, it wasn't like there was anywhere else in the house he'd rather be at the moment, Blake lay sprawled out on his back and wondered, not for the first time, if this was Bane's way of punishing him for not putting out. Because really, what else could he have possibly have done to deserve this? Unless of course this was by order of the supreme bitch who'd seen to it that he was exposed to Venom, Blake reasoned as he stared up blindly at the ceiling, but no, he was pretty sure this was all Bane.

And okay, no, it couldn't be the lack of sex because if it was Bane would or at least should have had the sense to realize that fucking each other's brains out was pretty impossible when just the idea made him want to whimper like a little girl, his body was that sore these days. He hurt in places he hadn't even known possessed muscles he could strain to this degree. Not to mention the fact that he'd been withholding hand jobs and humping since he'd been given the schedule that now dictated his life, and Bane wasn't stupid enough not to have made the correlation.

So really...what the fuck was this all about and was he going to be stuck with this until he was blown up? Because really, at the moment, he'd welcome the fucking bomb with open arms. Even the trip under the ice was looking good right about now, at least he'd be numb and wouldn't be able to feel his body as he became a human icicle.

Shaking his head over the thought, ow his neck, Blake forced himself to sit up and then slowly made his way over to the small fridge to get himself a bottle of water, which he chugged back gratefully before sitting down again, leaning his face against the mirrored wall so that it fogged up from his breath.

And turning his attention slowly to his reflection, he looked like crap, Blake addressed his reflection.

"John, I'm afraid I've been thinking."

Blake then answered in his best impression of Bane."A dangerous pastime."

"Yes I know. Oh this psycho twit, Bane acts like her servant, and both their sanities are only so so. Now the wheels in my head have been turning, since I figured she's like her looney old man. See I promised myself I'd get out of this mess, but right now I'm completely out of plans."

"And that sucks." Blake told himself, his reflection nodding with him in absolute agreement. "Plus talking to myself this way probably isn't a good sign either."

Forcing himself to his feet once more Blake very slowly and carefully made his way out of the gym, down the hallways, up the stairs, and going into his room stripped down and turned his attention to filling the tub with hot water to soak in. It was becoming a routine at this point, and utterly necessary.

Climbing in once it was full enough Blake leaned his head back against the rim and closed his eyes, trying his best to push everything aside and focus on the fact that he really needed to figure out a way to get a look at al Ghul's daughter. Not that there was a hell of a lot he could do even if he did know what she looked like and where she was, and it wasn't like he could email Gordon or a member of his former squad, but at least he'd feel like he was doing something if he could at least get more info on the person who was actually responsible for this whole mess they were in.

All he knew was that she was probably in her thirties, had crappy taste in perfume, and was crazier than a shit house rat.

And unfortunately this was Gotham...that wasn't that unusual.

Damn.


	26. A Few Days More

A Few Days More

Walking into the quiet, barren room, Bane could only hope he was ready for whatever bomb Talia intended to drop on him tonight. This meeting couldn't be a good thing, he could feel it in his bones. And the fact that he had come to dread even the sound of his Talia's voice, that he had come to fear hearing from her, much less seeing her in the flesh, told Bane more about how his priorities had changed since meeting his Robin than any decision he'd made since he'd arrived in Gotham City. Always his world had revolved around Talia, believing absolutely that her way was the only way, her happiness his happiness. But harming Blake could never bring him happiness, and that was what Talia wished and Bane knew that without question. She would not allow his loyalties to be split, and having never imagined that anyone could mean as much to him that had never been a problem. And yet now here he was, stuck in the middle, and worst of all...in his gut Bane knew which side called to him the strongest and it wasn't Talia's.

She stood at the uncovered window, the light from a single lamp set on a nearby table illuminating the room and her just enough for her form to be visible. The image she projected, bathed in the shadows of both light and dark, brought to Bane's mind the idea of film noires and femme fatales, hidden motives and the knowledge that trusting what you thought you knew and saw was often a foolish, foolish thing.

"Talia."

"Bane." Dragging a finger over the condensation on the window, Talia kept her back to him as she mused out loud. "I wasn't sure you'd be able to come, you've been so busy this week. I know Barsad's been taking on many of your duties so that all bases remain covered in the city."

He'd come up with a variety of lies and half truths to explain himself, knowing that she'd call his recent actions into question when she became aware of them, but in the end he'd decided to stay as close to the truth as he could. "I wish to keep my pet, and I am trying to make him stronger, and more willing to accept the truth of what is to come and the necessity of it. Barsad, as you said, has insured that nothing is being overlooked."

"You believe the cop who wears Bruce Wayne's symbol in his very skin can be converted so easily? Really, Bane, you've never been an optimist." Slowly turning around Talia finally looked in his direction, though the shadows continued to mask parts of her face. "Do you think, if he had to choose between the two of you he'd picked you? Protect and die for you? As I would? You are neither a fool nor an optimist, and yet..."

"Is this why you called me here, to discuss Detective Blake again?" Bane did his best to hide any trace of emotion or thought related to her words in his own voice. "He does no harm to you, and as my pet he is mine to do with as I please."

A chilling moment of silence, and then Talia was strolling towards him.

"No, that's not why I asked you here." When she was standing right in front of him Talia stopped, and now her words were as cold as ice. "He got out."

Bane's thoughts immediately went to Blake, the idea of his bird leaving him, especially before he'd had the chance to say goodbye, had Bane panicking for a moment before logic kicked in, cluing him into the fact that Talia would be quite happy if Blake left him. "Gordon?"

"No. Wayne. He got out."

Eyes widening, Bane asked when and how. He wouldn't insult her by asking if she was sure. Not about this.

"Two days ago. He climbed out."

"No rope?"

"No rope."

"He's found himself." A shiver of anticipation running up his spine, Bane could feel his blood heating up at the idea that he might yet get to meet the warrior Ra's al Ghul had once thought so highly of that the man had considered him worthy or Talia. The Bruce Wayne he'd faced in the sewers had been weak, especially in mind, fighting for what he thought was right but without the fire and will to do more than irritate Bane on the 'battlefield'. But to not only heal from the damage he'd done to the man's spine, but train in both mind and body in the time he'd been there, to the extent that Wayne had done what only Talia had been able to do at this point...that spoke of a man worthy of his notice and respect. It had been so long since he'd encountered another who could challenge him, and with his effortless defeat of Wayne before he'd thought...

What would Blake think of this?

"He'll come here. To Gotham."

Nodding in agreement Bane didn't doubt that that was so. "Do you wish that to be made easier for him?" The original plan had been to level the city, destroy it completely and make Wayne live out what was left of his life in the hell that was The Pit, the images of Gotham's demise seared into his brain and heart. Destroying him from the inside out with the knowledge that he had failed on every level, saving no one and standing for nothing. But now that plan would have to change, Wayne would not be easy to track now that he was in the wind. They'd considered him so broken and beaten that they hadn't bothered to insert a tracker, a mistake, in hindsight.

"No. If he gets in it will be because he finds something you missed or didn't think of. He has to earn the right to die here."

"Then he won't get in."

"You said he wouldn't get out of The Pit, remember?"

Rather than argue Bane asked if there was something she did want him to do.

"Yes. You will get rid of your pet." Talia was in his face before he could comment, her heels giving her the height to look him dead in the eye, their breath mingling. "He has thirty six hours, at the end of that he's dead or back with his fellow rats scrambling around this city, trying to survive a little longer before we blow him and his kind to hell. You will put all you have into making sure Gotham remains in our hands and that Wayne does nothing to jeopardize that. What and who euthanize your pet is up to you, but it's not leaving the city alive, understand?"

She'd see his bird dead, Bane knew absolutely as he stared into eyes that lacked any trace of humanity or light. Nothing he could do or say would sway her.

"I understand."

)

Blake came awake with a very loud yelp and much creative cursing as he flailed around in an attempt to free himself of his icy predicament, failing epically due to the fact that the human block of ice spooning him from behind had his cold arms wrapped around his waist, holding him in place. That didn't stop him from shouting though, especially since the manner of his awakening had woken his brain up enough that he put two and two together pretty damn quick.

"DAMMIT, BANE! WHAT THE FUCK?! DID YOU GO SWIMMING UNDER THE FUCKING ICE TO PROVE YOUR MORE BADASS THAN EVERYONE ELSE? JESUS, FUCKING CHRIST, LET ME GO! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME TOO FROM SHOCK?!"

"No on both counts. I'll warm up soon enough, go back to sleep."

In some part of Blake's brain he recognized that there was something really wrong in Bane's voice, mechanized or not, but he was too busy dealing with what he was sure was impending frostbite to give that much thought. "I'll be dead by then! Let me get more fucking blankets at least!"

A long pause. "Then you'll come back?"

"YES!"

The arm was retracted and lunging away Blake didn't even care when he stumbled off the bed and crashed onto the floor. The floor was warmer than Bane. But he also knew that Bane would drag him back into bed if he didn't return ASAP, so Blake got to his feet and then very sulkily went over to the walk-in closet where he'd stashed a bunch of blankets in case the electricity went out at some point. Choosing the thickest of the bunch Blake carried them back over to the bed and spread them out, wishing that he could wrap himself up in one of them but unable to do so since he knew Bane would get warmer faster via body heat.

Even if the bastard did deserve minor frostbite for crawling into bed with him like that.

"Robin."

Sensing the warning as opposed to hearing it, what the hell was up with Bane's voice, anyway, Blake shook his head, gritted his teeth, and rejoined Bane under the covers, allowing himself to be yanked back up against Bane's very cold, T-shirt covered chest.

"You owe me big time for this." He was aiming for a growl, but it was hard to pull off at the moment.

"Go back to sleep. We will talk in the morning."

"Now you're assuming I'm going to talk to you after this." Blake resorted. "And how did you get this fucking cold anyway?"

"I went for a walk."

"A walk. God. I really am surrounded by morons. The biggest moron in Gotham is trying to turn me into a human icicle." Calling Bane more names under his breath, the teeth chattering he was doing probably made his words incomprehensible anyway, Blake forced himself to take Bane's hand from its place on his hip and slid it up a little and under his thick hoodie, splaying the fingers over his formerly warm stomach.

The volume of cursing rose in response to that chilly hand quite a bit.

But when Bane tried to move it Blake just moved it back into place and then started rubbing his hand over the top of Bane's much longer one while telling Bane not to be stupider than he already was. Going walking this late at night, when the temperature had dropped this much, was he insane? More than his usual terrorist insanity, Blake clarified, because really Bane couldn't afford to lose any more of his grip on his sanity. Being sane was important, especially since his own life depended on Bane's mental well being. And for that matter mercenaries needed hands to fire guns, remember? Not to mention he'd pay serious money to see Bane try and throw a grenade without hands. So taking care of his hands should have been top priority.

And when Bane had nothing to say to any of Blake's ramblings Blake outright asked him, again, what he'd been thinking.

"That is not open to discussion. The sooner you accept this the sooner you will be told tomorrow. Am I truly too cold for you?" Bane tacked on the last part after a pause, again moving a little away Blake's warm body with great reluctance.

"Duh. But I'm looking at it as more under the ice training since you're no good to me dead or with pneumonia or just plain sick." Really, he didn't even want to imagine just how hellish nursing Bane back to health would be, especially given how annoying regular men were when they were sick. Because unlike those guys Bane had access to way too many weapons, and if the idiot got cranky or feverish...

Paling a little at the very thought of that horror being visited upon him, Blake flipped around so that he was facing Bane instead, moving in close so that he could shove his own hands under the thin shirt Bane was wearing to start rubbing warmth into the stupid man's skin, all the while asking again why he'd gone out walking so late.

"I needed to think."

"Right...because freezing your brain is a great idea. This explains so many of your terrorist decisions."

The words were barely out of Blake's mouth before he found himself on his back with Bane's weight pressing him into the mattress, stealing the air from his lungs and pinning him in place just that easily. He could smell winter on Bane's skin and the clothes the idiot hadn't even bothered to change, and Blake was pretty sure Bane had only taken off his coat, whatever body armor and weapons he'd had on his person, and his boots before climbing in beside him.

Poking Bane's side Blake told him to get the hell off him.

"Angering me now, Little Bird, would not be in your best interests."

"One, lose the nickname, two, when is it EVER in my best interests to piss you off?" Please, like that had ever stopped him.

Rather than answer Bane did something so unexpected, Blake froze even as his insides melted into goo. The man lowered his head and nuzzled his face against his neck, which wasn't a pleasant sensation thanks to the mask, but the action itself...

"Bane...seriously, what's wrong?"

Rolling them back to their original position Bane's voice was weary, with an underlying plea to it. "We will talk in the morning. Sleep now."

Making a sound of disgust, it was the only answer he could give without revealing his own worries, Blake nodded and went quiet, allowing Bane to hold him as they both tried and failed to drift off for a long time before exhaustion got them both.

)

Waking up the next morning Blake wasn't pleased to see that Bane wasn't around, especially since the idiot had promised him an explanation for the night before. So with that in mind he showered and dressed quickly, heading downstairs with a look in his eyes that promised untold troubles if Bane had left their gaudy home without talking to him first. Of course Bane was horribly twisted too, so maybe the bastard was just lying in wait, planning to drag him into the gym for more training exercises or fight simulations that would finally make him cry like a little girl.

That thought had him stopping dead in his tracks, Blake's eyes shifting left and then right suspiciously.

Mercenaries did like their ambushes after all.

But he was standing nearly at the front door of the monstrosity passing itself off as a house at the moment, so it wasn't like he wouldn't see someone coming if Bane was in the vicinity. The man wasn't someone you could easily miss even with the gaudy decorating style of front hallway with its lion head doorknobs and creepy gargoyle molding. Barsad had said something about it being an example of a style called...it rhymed with cocoa. Rococo? Or something like that, anyway.

To distract himself further, as well as still being half awake thank to his late night interruption, Blake spoke in a low voice as he looked around again as a joke, like Bane really was lying in wait for him. "Hello? Hello...is someone there? I don't mean to intrude, but I'm looking for the biggest idiot in Gotham."

"That's funny, I'm sure that someone is you."

Jumping into the air at the unexpected response and the large breath Barsad had blown against his neck just to freak him out more, Blake whirled around with a fire in his eyes that quickly died, the look in the other man's eyes stopping him. Because where there should be amusement and there wasn't...so something was wrong. Just as there'd been something wrong with Bane before.

"What's going on?"

"I thought you'd be the one, the one to break the spell. I don't like being wrong."

"Okay...did you go with Bane for his walk last night and put your brain on ice too? A spell, really? WTF?"

"Your breakfast and Bane are waiting for you in the library. He sent me to come and get you."

"That's not an answer."

"That's all you're going get."

"I don't deserve you. Seriously, Assehole." Giving him a dark look Blake didn't bother to try and get more information out of the jerk, there was never a point in doing so when it came to Barsad. Especially when the topic of conversation was Bane or the man's orders in relation to him. So instead Blake simply shook his head over both Bane and Barsad's clandestine behaviour, and then headed off in the direction of the library to hopefully get some answers in regards to what the hell was going on.

Watching him go Barsad mentally recalled the conversation he'd had less than an hour before with Bane, when he'd tried to reason with the man and get him to fight to keep Blake with him. To at least hold on to him until the very end instead of just dumping him back onto the streets where he could easily end up dead or wishing that he was before the bomb ever went off. What if he got dragged before Crane, or had another run in with the Timber Wolves? Hell, what if his former comrades in arms refused to welcome him back because really, who was going to believe that they'd decided to just turn the detective loose, especially when Blake had proven before that he could be a real pain in the ass when he wanted to be.

Bane was sure that Gordon would welcome Blake back, and Barsad didn't doubt that either, but still, with them was the safest place Blake could be right now.

"He's not safe with us either." Bane had replied. "And my decision is final."

He'd asked Bane why...and had gotten the answer he'd been hoping to hear for a while, but in this context meant that that answer wouldn't save Bane.

Bane's answer...because he loved him.


	27. Neither One Prepared

Neither One Prepared

Staring blankly at Bane, the man's expression was impossible to read at the moment, Blake tried to comprehend what he'd just been told. Because it sounded like Bane had just told him that in roughly twenty four hours he was going to be taken back into Gotham and set free. That couldn't be right though...there was just no way. Bane wanted him here, he knew that, and above and beyond that how would it look to Bane's men if he did that? Just let a cop go free to rejoin the resistance that continued to do their level best to strike out against Bane and the other criminals to the best of their ability. He'd never-the only way he'd imagined leaving Bane's side at this point was death by bomb or-.

The woman. The one who was really in charge of Gotham's occupation and imminent destruction. The one who'd ordered him exposed to Venom and whose orders Bane apparently didn't go against even when he knew she was wrong. Maybe this was HER idea. But unfortunately he couldn't speak of her either, couldn't let Bane know that he knew she even existed, so Blake just continued to stare back at Bane, hoping that he would say something, anything, that would make it clear whether he truly was going to be let go the following morning...and how Bane actually felt about that fact.

"Your Batman is no longer in The Pit."

That was not what he'd been expecting but- "What do you mean? Where is he? What did you do to him now?"

"We don't know where he is. We assume he is on his way here."

Suddenly finding his legs again Blake bounced to his feet, forgetting for a moment what Bane had said before this latest bomb had been dropped on his head. "He got out?! Out of The Pit?! And he's coming back here? Of course he is. He's coming back and-and when people see him-this is exactly what we-YES!" Punching a fist in the air Blake grinned in triumph, eyes glowing with relief and absolute certainty that this was going to change everything. That finally he wasn't going to have to force himself to believe that Gotham could survive the League of Shadows even when anyone with half a brain could see their odds were next to nil.

His hero was alive though. Alive and on his way back to Gotham. And he believed that with every fibre of his being, that now they really stood a chance.

But happy as he was the euphoria of Bane's words only lasted so long, he couldn't not be aware of Bane presence for long, and slowly Blake's smile dimmed a little, eyes narrowing in calculation and growing dread now. "Why? Why would you tell me that, especially if it's true. You know-I've seen the way you look at and react to my tattoo, to the mere mentioning of Batman. And letting me go, when you know I...what's going on, Bane? What are you up to?"

What is SHE up to, he silently added, because he couldn't believe that Bane cared so little to give him false hope just to be cruel. If this was all a lie it was HER lie, one Bane had been ordered to tell him.

"Nothing that involves you. I have told you what you need to know. Now for the rest of the day-" Bane's voice went quiet for a moment, the mercenary clearing his throat before finishing, "for the rest of the day you will stay with me. Then tomorrow you will return to Gotham and whatever fate has in store for you before your city is no more."

Sitting down again, it struck Blake as the brightest move he could make at the moment, Blake didn't bother to try and keep eye contact with Bane, wanting to hide his own thoughts and feelings now as it abruptly sunk in that even if Bane wasn't lying, and he really was going to be returned to Gotham alive and Batman might come...this was the end. The end of them.

Not that they really were a them, us, couple, or whatever you wanted to call it or put it. They weren't friends or allies, Bane a terrorist to his hostage, and yet... And yet all the joy Blake had felt earlier at the news of Batman's escape, the small flame of hope he'd experienced at the idea that he might go free for real, all of those emotions were gone or buried under the realization that the next time he faced Bane, if there even was a next time, they'd do so as enemies on opposite sides of the battlefield.

Jerking a little when a hand he'd come to know as well as his own grasped his chin, Blake had no choice but to look up to meet the gaze of the man who'd crouched down in front of him, Bane's approach having gone completely unnoticed. And in Bane's eyes, for a brief moment, Blake saw his own thoughts echoed in those stormy depths and knew that no, this parting wasn't something Bane wanted either.

But that look was gone as quickly as it had come, Bane shutting him out again as easily as the man must don his mask every day.

"One would think you'd look happier at this news."

Blake didn't even have to think about that, automatically shaking his head. "No. No matter how this ends, it won't end...the way I would want it to."

There was complete understanding and agreement in Bane's eyes for a single heartbeat, and then he was getting to his feet, motioning over to a nearby table that turned out to hold the breakfast that had already been prepared for him. Blake hadn't even noticed it earlier, nor did he have any interest in it now and said so. If Bane wanted it he could have it, he'd leave the room since he wasn't allowed to see the man behind the mask.

Blake didn't even try and hide the bitterness behind that statement as he too rose up to stand, facing Bane with as much bravado as he could manage at that particular moment.

"You will eat. Tomorrow and the days after you won't have food so readily available, especially if your former comrades don't find you quickly or welcome you back."

He wanted to argue about that, even the thought of eating made him want to be sick, but Blake also knew that Bane had a very valid point. Food had been hard to come by before, he wouldn't be surprised if things had only gotten worse in his absence. And the more fuel he had in his system the more likely he'd be able to run or fight if he ran into trouble. As much as food didn't interest him, ending up dead or walking on ice appealed even less.

So he didn't argue, walking over to the table to pick up the plate of bacon and eggs, opting to just sit on the floor to dig in.

When Bane sat down beside him Blake accepted the large glass of orange juice he was handed, gulping it down in one go before handing it back to Bane, who simply set it aside and remained sitting beside him on the floor while he ate, not saying a word but obviously supervising to make sure that he ate everything on the plate.

As soon as he was done he held the plate up for Bane's inspection, like he was a child proving to his mother that he'd eaten everything as ordered so that he could have dessert.

"I'll give you food before you return to the city, enough to get you by for a while."

"Now you tell me. Thanks." Blake forced himself to tack that last part on, because really, he didn't want to spend their last day together being a little shit. As much pleasure as that gave him, especially when Bane was pissing him off, that wasn't what he wanted to remember for as long as he had left on his too often God forsaken planet.

So instead he set aside the plate and then asked what they were going to do now.

"What would you like to do?"

)

And so they bundled up and headed outside for a walk in the cool air, neither talking about anything really as they simply appreciated the weather and being outside without any walls or obvious boundaries. They could just keep walking really, right off the property and to the very edge of Gotham if they wanted to. But then there was just the ice and death, and they both knew it. They could only walk so far together, and then it would be all over for both of them.

To erase that dark thought Blake scooped up some snow from a bank as they passed it, asking Bane idly if he'd just shoot it out of the sky if he were to throw it at him.

"A waste of a bullet, and I would possibly hit you in the process given our close proximity."

"Tell that to Barsad." It was muttered, but Bane heard him well enough.

"He shot at you?"

"At the snowball I levied at his head. He didn't hit me, obviously, but it took all the fun out of it and stopped the impeding snowball fight completely. Though it was pretty boss that he blew it out of the air like that. The man's got skills, though I will deny saying that if you tell him I did." Blake managed a real grin for a moment, dimples and all before his expression went back to a calm mask.

Bane considered this, then reached down to make his own snowball, well aware that Blake was watching his every move as intently as he'd watched the other man eat his breakfast before. Snowball making wasn't a talent he'd honed by any means, but once it seemed well packed and in the right shape he looked over at Blake and threw it at the detective's head.

Dodging it was automatic for Blake, as was the hurling of his own snowball, which didn't hit either.

Nor did most of the snowballs that were quickly made and thrown at the other, many falling apart in flight because they hadn't been packed properly before thrown. In a way it was like the snowballs were all the words that they wanted to throw at each other, words that would demand things from the other that they both thought or knew the other couldn't give him. It was freeing, really, to focus completely and totally on the snow, on being able to put everything that was poisoning them from the inside out into something that couldn't really hurt either of them.

Blake had more skill, obviously, this was a 'sport' he knew well while Bane might have spent some time in cold climates over the years, but he sure as hell hadn't spent them tossing around snowballs. And the oddity of their weight, which was never consistent, and constructing them properly on the run from 'enemy' fire meant that oddly enough Bane found himself at the disadvantage in this 'fight'. He didn't even mind though, because Blake was laughing and smiling at him now, and that was worth more than a couple snowballs to the head.

They were cold, wet, emotionally exhausted, and winded when Blake called a ceasefire, Bane accepting this even though he was well aware that his little bird fought dirty enough to cheat. But Blake had meant it so they stopped throwing things and settled for leaning against trees for some support, watching each other as their breath appeared as white fog in front of them before fading away until the next breath.

And again Blake broke the silence, dimples still showing even now that there was nothing else to distract them from the other. "I needed that."

"I as well."

Pushing off from the tree Blake stumbled over to stand in front of him. "But just so you know, for future reference, you throw like a girl."

"A girl?"

"Yup. A sissy girl, I should add, since some girls actually have damn good arms." Lifting a hand Blake gave Bane's shoulder a comforting pat that was completely at odds with the detective's grin. "But don't feel bad about it, no one's perfect."

"In stamina I defeat you easily."

"I could make so many comments about that, but I'm going to be the better man here and preserve what little sanity you and I have between us and not jump all over that." What went unsaid, but both thought, was how much they wanted to jump the other and test that stamina out for themselves.

And watching the strangest expression come over Blake's face, one he didn't recognize but that sent a shiver running down his spine, Bane cocked his head to the side and asked him what he was thinking now. It was important, Bane knew, somewhere in his gut he was sure of that.

"Let me think about it some more on the way back to the house. Then maybe I'll tell you."

)

Remaining quiet for the rest of the walk back to the house Blake had come to a decision by the time they headed inside. He'd accepted what he could and couldn't change, and knew what he was willing to regret and what he wasn't. There was a calm to him now, a knowing exactly what to do for the first time since this whole fucking mess had started and turned his world on its axis. What was coming tomorrow, he sure as hell didn't know, but in this time and this place, for this day, he did know. He would mold the way he wanted it to go and to hell with everything going on outside this house and in their lives.

And with his plan in mind Blake pointed out that they both needed a hot shower, and that afterwards Bane could meet up with him in his bedroom if that was okay.

Blake could see in Bane's eyes that the man wanted to question the request, but thankfully he didn't argue or ask after a long study of his face, nodding instead and parting ways from him once they were up the stairs, each going to their individual rooms to use their showers and change into dry clothes.

Showering quickly and economically because he knew that Bane would, Blake dried off and then headed into the bedroom to pull on just a pair of silk pajama bottoms before going to the closet to retrieve an article of clothing he certainly hadn't thought he'd be needing while he was being held hostage there.

But he'd taken his pick and was running the smooth material through his hands when Bane came in wearing his usual black T-shirt and khaki pants.

Running his eyes over him Bane asked with a hint of amusement if he was so worn out he needed to take a nap now.

"No." Walking over to the bed Blake took a seat towards the end and then asked Bane to take a seat as well, with his back against the headboard. After a pause Bane did as he'd been asked, Blake waiting until the other man was settled before he shuffled over and then straddled Bane's legs as much as he was able given their size. "Trust me?"

"To do what?"

Blake leaned in and showed the tie, holding it just a short distance in front of Bane's eyes. "It's not see through, see?"

"Yes." That Bane had no idea where this was going was obvious in even his mechanized voice.

Rather than answer the unspoken questions he saw in Bane's eyes Blake shifted up to a more seated position and then lifted the strip of material up to his own eyes, tying the ends at the back of his head together as he turned the tie into an effective blindfold.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't want me to see you, but this way you can see me." Blake touched his fingertips to either side of his head. "I can't see anything."

And on that note he leaned forward again to feel around Bane's head until he reached the straps that held the mask into place, fumbling a little but with the obvious intent to remove the hunk of metal he hated so much.

Bane said his name softly, but made no attempt to stop him, so Blake kept doing what he was doing until he finally worked the mask free of Bane's face.

"You'll tell me when you need to put this back on."

Not waiting for confirmation of that Blake used the positioning of his hands as guidance, moving in close to press their lips together.

)

Note: Chapter Twenty-four's references were the discussion about Bane needing to smile from Cogsworth and Beast's conversation, and the primeval comment from Belle's conversation with Gaston. Chapter twenty-five was Blake's conversation with the mirror, mirroring Gaston and his lackey discussing how to manipulate Belle by using her father. In chapter twenty-six it was the the baroque/rococo style of the mansion's hallway, same as the Beast's castle, as well as Blake repeating Maurice's comments when the man first entered said castle. Also was Barsad's comment that he thought Blake would be the one to break the spell, and at the end Beast's response to Cogworth's question of why he let Belle go was echoed by Barsad and Bane.


	28. Every Last Inch

Every Last Inch

Quick butterfly kisses and long, drawn out ones. Sweet kisses that made their hands gentle and wet, dirty kisses that had nails digging into skin. Tongue and no tongue, Blake in complete control or the two equal partners as they kept their arms wrapped around each other, losing themselves in the pleasure of their mouths and tongues. Eventually Blake pulled away and made a soothing sound when Bane made a sound of protest, Blake using his hands as a guide for where to aim as he planted kisses around Bane's mouth and on his scarred cheeks, following the other man's jawline and giving special attention to every scar on Bane's face even though he couldn't see them. From there Blake moved down to Bane's neck, kissing and nibbling on one side and then the other, biting down on either side of Bane's neck too before growling a little in annoyance when he reached the collar of Bane's shirt, which he had to hold off to the side to keep it out of the way.

Tugging on the material insistently, Blake's voice was husky as he asked Bane to remove it, needing more access to the flesh it covered up.

Not saying anything Bane's arms retreated from Blake's side and moved between them, the shirt removed as requested before his hands went to either side of Blake's head, cradling it gently as Bane brought it back down to press Blake's lips against his skin in a silent plea for him to continue from where he'd left off. He couldn't ask himself, couldn't risk wrecking the moment they were in, so his request was quiet, his whole body relaxing once more when Blake's lips returned to kissing his neck.

After several more reassuring kisses Blake turned his attention back to the spot where neck met shoulder, working the skin on either side with his teeth to insure it would bruise, wanting to leave marks that Bane would see in the days to come when he wasn't there to be with him. He wished he could see them for himself, to know for sure they'd remain visible, but stuck hoping for the best he finally moved away to kiss his way down Bane's chest, the larger man shifting down on the mattress and taking Blake with him until they were both lying down to make it easier.

Other than the increasingly ragged breathing and mumbled words in a language Blake didn't know, Bane stayed relatively quiet up until Blake circled the man's bellybutton with his tongue, the mercenary groaning his name like a pray in reaction to that.

"Don't worry, I've got you."

The way Bane shudder in response to his promise made Blake smile against the warm skin of Bane's stomach, the detective deciding to lift his head so that Bane could see that while his hands groped around a little, brushing against Bane's erection a couple times before he found the belt buckle to undo.

"Robin…?"

"Trust me."

Whether it was trust, curiosity, or Bane realizing what he intended to do Blake didn't know, but Bane didn't try and stop him and that was the main thing. He wouldn't have been able to bear it, really, if Bane had told him to stop. He needed to do this. For both of them.

Undoing the pants Blake wasn't surprised when his fingers brushed up against bare skin, he'd figured Bane for the commando type. It made what he was going to do next so much easier.

Moving down Bane's body a little bit more Blake braced his weight on one hand while the other wrapped around Bane's sizable erection, his grip firm and in charge. Then lowering his head Blake carefully licked the head, swirling his tongue around it before turning his attention to mouthing and licking the different parts, lingering on the places that made Bane outright groan and buck up to try and get more contact.

And knowing that Bane wouldn't last long, it was why he was starting things this way, Blake nuzzled his cheek against Bane's right thigh and then shifted over to start taking Bane's erection into his mouth. Giving Bane a moment to get used to the new sensations, he wanted to do this right, Blake waited until Bane's breathing had evened out a little more before he tried some light suction.

Bane's fingers suddenly in his hair Blake paused, waiting to see if his head was going to be jerked away. But it wasn't so he continued, buoyed by the way Bane's fingers flexed and raked through his hair for purchase, Bane's hips starting to jerk in time with his head bobbing so that Blake took him deeper into his mouth. And then Bane was coming and Blake focused solely on swallowing, licking his lips clean when he finally raised his head, feeling very pleased with himself.

He also wanted to see, Bane must have bitten down on his lip because his groans as he'd come had been so muffled and now it was just ragged breathing, but knowing he couldn't Blake contented himself with moving back up Bane's body and resting his head on one broad shoulder, smiling when Bane's arms came up to wrap around him again.

)

In some working part of his brain Bane knew he should be saying something, or at the very least do something to give his Robin some of the same unbelievable pleasure his little bird had just given him, but for the life of him Bane couldn't find the strength, much less the words to do either. If the man lying so trustingly against him had tried to kill him now Bane knew he wouldn't have the strength or will to stop him, and in his heart Bane would have accepted that. And if he died here in Gotham…death would be worth the gift he'd been given, having his little bird in his life for these past few weeks.

Minutes passed without either of them speaking, and in the quiet Bane finally found some words, though he stumbled over them a little as he said thank you, which was the only thing he could think to say.

"You're welcome."

Bane felt Blake's lips curve into a smile against his chest, which made his lips curve in response.

And since he most definitely had feeling below the waist, he had a lot of feeling, actually, Bane was aware that Blake hadn't come yet but was most definitely hard. That being the case Bane re-remembered that he should be offering to return the favor. With that in mind he lowered one hand down to slid under the pants the detective was wearing, stroking over the skin there with the intention of making his way between them to touch his lover far more intimately.

A warm chuckle stopped that idea though, Blake's next words wiping every thought out of Bane's head very quickly and thoroughly.

"Don't worry. As soon as you're up to it, pun intended, I'll let you fuck me properly."

"But I don't wish to do that." He hadn't meant to say that outloud, but Bane meant it all the same.

Lifting his head Blake cocked his head to the side, his puzzlement obvious even with the blindfold on. "Oh?"

Now Bane stumbled a little, feeling shy which was just ludicrous, but true. "I meant…I wish to…do it properly. Not just fucking."

While he watched Blake's mouth dropped open just a little, and then the lips curved into a wide smile, the dimples on full display.

"Bad word choice on my part." Blake softly agreed. "We'll do it properly."

Wanting to make sure of that, as well as give back the gift his Robin had given him, Bane rolled them over and proceeded to copy what the other man had done for him kiss for kiss, revealing in being able to press his lips against Robin's skin to his heart's content. He also loved that his little bird was far more vocal than he had been about how much he liked being kissed and nibbled on. For himself he'd trained from an early age not to show reaction to any sort of stimuli, and it had been instinctive earlier to muffle and hide his own pleasure even though it hadn't been necessary. But Robin wanted him to know how much he was pleasing him, and that was another pleasure he hadn't expected. Next time he would try to be more vocal, Bane decided then and there, so that he could give back that too.

Pulling down the pants Blake was wearing, the other man lifting up his hips to make it easy for him, Blake was very quickly naked and looking like an offering to the gods in some ancient mythology in Bane's eyes.

His hands reverent Bane couldn't help but run his hands over the dips and curves that he could reach, telling Robin with both his actions and his words that he thought him beautiful.

Ears red Blake grumbled about being called Robin, though there was no heat behind it. Just embarrassment and exertion.

"You will always be Robin to me." His Robin, his herald of spring and rebirth. Now until his end.

"Well then Robin would appreciate you getting back to what you were doing."

His turn to chuckle, something he would have thought impossible that morning, Bane smiled in agreement and then turned his attention to lowering his head and very tentatively touched his tongue to his Robin's erection, the needy whine he got in reaction enough for him to try and make this feel as good for his lover as it had for him. Thankfully Robin had no problem telling him exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it, the smaller man's reactions when he did it just right intoxicating enough that the rest of Bane's worries and inhibitions of not living up to Robin's previous lovers faded away. And when Robin climaxed under him, Bane's only regret was that he couldn't see Robin's eyes to see it there too.

Rolling them over once they were both up to it Bane cradled Robin back up against his chest, content to simply stroke his lover's back and exchange a lazy kiss or two until eventually enough time had passed that his Robin decided to put more heat behind those long kisses, and rub up against him in a way that had his body starting to ache again for something it knew it would finally get if it just made its demands loud enough.

And when Robin shifted away from him and started groping under a pillow Bane was about to ask him what he was doing when the hand came back into view with a container of lube in his hand. Oh.

"Normally I'd want the pleasure of lubing you up myself, but my ass needs my attention more." So saying Blake waved the tube in front of him. "So squirt a bunch on my hand and then do the same to yours." A devilish smile crossed his face. "Do I need to tell you where yours goes?"

"No." Nipping the tube out of Robin's hand Bane took the man's hand and squirted plenty of lube into it and then did the same to his own hand. He'd just set aside the tube when Robin made a sound in the back of his throat that had him glancing over, Bane's eyes widening at the sight that greeted him. Because while he couldn't really see where Blake's fingers were the way Robin was moving his body and the small sounds he was making made what he was doing perfectly clear.

And wanting to replace those fingers as soon as possible Bane lowered his hand to start applying the lube to his erection, which was getting harder by the second as he watched Robin pleasure himself, opening himself up for him. To welcome him inside his body and join them together.

"Okay." Blake told him when he was ready, panting hard and shifting over to straddle Bane as well as he could given the difference in their sizes. "Now you've got to stay still until I tell you to move, alright? Let's see all that He-man training of yours in action."

Lips curving into a hint of a smirk at having his training referred to in that way, Bane quickly lost that expression when Blake's hands ghosted over his thighs before going to his groin, those talented fingers wrapping around his erection while Blake shifted again to get into position to guide said erection into his ass.

And in a flash of insight Bane asked for his Robin to give him a moment, and in that time grabbed his mask from the bedspread and fitted it in place, doing up the buckles while he told the other man to remove his blindfold.

Blindfold immediately yanked down Bane saw the disappointment in his bird's eyes when his bird saw that the mask was back on.

But all he said was, "That's not a good idea given what I'm about to do to your breathing."

Not quite sure why having intercourse would making breathing a problem, though he remembered Robin's effect on it earlier quickly enough, Bane still shook his head and placing his hands on the quivering thighs against his and told his lover to continue.

"Bane…"

"I want to see you."

Eyes softening, how could they not, Blake nodded. "All right…but I'm going to say I told you so very, very soon."

Bane had just enough time to think that no, he'd be just fine now that he was prepared due to their earlier interlude, and then the sensation of breaching the other man's body and the picture Robin made while he bowed back and closed his eyes, breath coming out in pants and that strong, slender body on full display for him…

Perhaps Robin had had a point about his ability to breathe normally through the mask in such a situation.

And then thinking pretty much went out the window because Bane's brain, however brilliant and honed Bane knew it to be, was simply not up to processing what he was experiencing as Robin worked him deep inside of him until his little bird couldn't take anymore apparently, asking for just a minute to adjust.

Given the problems he was having Bane was all for that, but all his returned control evaporated once Robin started moving again, so agonizingly slow, teasing him with the gift of his body and then withdrawing so that he slide out of his tight, hot heat only to return to it with another groan of thanks. And it was the need to control his access to all that his lover's body had to offer that had Bane's instincts pretty much taking over then and there.

Without conscious thought, more of the ecstasy his lover's body offered him all he desired, Bane had his lover on his back in one swift motion and then he was the one in control as he thrusted in and out of Robin's quivering, eager body, knowing now what he wanted and how to get it. The sounds of their sweat covered skin meeting, combined with how eagerly Robin was taking him, begging him for more and digging his nails into his back as he egged him on was more than enough stimulation for Bane, especially when Robin was moving into every thrust to take him just that much deeper as they fell into a rhythm that promised that neither would last long nor wanted to.

And all through the lovemaking, even when their climaxes hit and both were stripped of their figurative masks and were left feeling truly complete for the first time in their lives…there was the knowledge that they would have this night and this night only.

)

In the morning they loved each other one last time, though in truth Blake knew he should have said no since walking a straight line after the night they'd had was going to be no small feat. But he couldn't say no, not with those sad, stormy eyes looking into his while Bane's hand stroked over his side questioningly. Afterwards Bane left the room to shower and change in his own room, Blake waiting until Bane was out of the room before getting up as well, not wanting the other man to see him hobble like a drunk old man to the bathroom to do the same. He would have liked the bath, especially since it would possibly be his last one ever, but they were on a schedule and so Blake settled for a hot shower and some stretching afterwards to loosen him up before heading into the bedroom to dress.

He went with layers there, no telling if his place had been looted while he was away, and staying warm would be important to his survival until Batman came or he was blown to smithereens. Whichever came first, he thought with a dark smirk.

Breakfast was a silent ordeal with only him eating, and forcing himself to do so while Bane watched him from the other side of the table was definitely not on Blake's list of fun things to do. It was like someone had died, though Blake supposed that was accurate to a degree. Only it wasn't someone who had died…but something. In them.

After breakfast Blake followed Bane out of the kitchen to the front hallway, taking the winter coat and boots Bane pointed at and donned them before he finally spoke, asking where Barsad was while he held the pack of supplies he'd been handed.

"Working."

Not that he'd miss the guy, he wouldn't, but Blake still felt like it was wrong to leave without saying good bye to the assehole. But since he couldn't…"You'll tell him good bye for me?"

"I will."

Leaving it at that they headed outside to get into the all-terrain drive vehicle that had been parked out front, the car waiting for them with no one to join them as they headed into the city with the silence of too many words unspoken suffocating them.

Finally they arrived, Bane driving to within a few blocks of Blake's apartment building before he pulled into a long abandoned parking lot and killed the engine, the mercenary staring determinedly ahead, refusing to so much as look at him now.

Understanding that, it was killing him just as much, Blake undid his seat belt and then forced himself to make another crack in his heart as he leaned over to place a brief kiss on the masked cheek beside him.

"Thank you for telling me that Batman got free of The Pit. For understanding how much he means to me." Blake cupped the cheek he'd just kissed. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to-to show you how much you mean to me too."

And unable to say more, or stand Bane's silence a moment longer, Blake turned, opened the door, and got out, closing the door behind him. And then he started walking, not looking back as he made his way into the city where everything had gone to hell along with him.


	29. Have Someone Understand

Have Someone Understand

It took some doing for Blake to find his way to one of the safe houses, and even then it took a lot of convincing on his part to make the cops he found there even consider the possibility that he hadn't secured his release by promising to act as a spy or assassin for Bane. That it was physical obvious he hadn't been starved or beaten was naturally suspicious, and Blake tried not to take offense when they insisted on thoroughly searching his body and possessions for listening devices. The food he'd been given obviously rubbing them the wrong way even after he'd invited them all to have some, and they refused on the grounds that it could be poisoned and instead took their hunger pains out on him by taking turns trying to interrogate him for information before they'd even consider alerting Commissioner Gordon to his return. And yes he probably wasn't endearing himself by refusing to give them any real details, but he only wanted to cover certain things once and with Gordon.

Thankfully one of the guards had worked out of his cop house and was willing to give Blake just enough credit to see to it that news of his arrival would reach Gordon's ears, though the former sergeant made it clear that any suspicious movements from him and he'd put a bullet in his head.

Forced to lean up against the wall since he wasn't allowed one of the chairs, Blake had to wait for nearly three hours before Gordon came striding through the door, the look of relief and jubilation on his commanding officer's face a welcome change from the reactions of his fellow cops thus far.

"Blake." Striding over Gordon ignored the protests of his other men and drew Blake in for a manly sort of hug. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Yeah, I didn't figure I'd be see you again either, Sir. It's damn good to see you though."

"Well I wouldn't be alive to see you again if you hadn't saved my ass before. Which is something the other people in this room would be wise to remember." Giving the officers in question stern looks Gordon ushered Blake over to a table with chairs, motioning for him to take the other.

As soon as he was sitting Gordon started with the most obvious question. "Did you…how did you escape?"

He'd thought about how to answer that since he'd found out he was getting out, but telling Gordon that Bane had changed and wasn't the beast they'd all believed him to be wouldn't go over well, especially since he was trying to convince them all that he was neither crazy nor Bane's brainwashed minion. The truth that he thought Bane had set him free to protect him from the real mastermind behind the attack on Gotham…that was even worse than the other way of explaining things. But he was also dealing with a cop who would know if he was bullshitting him, which meant he needed to tread very carefully here or risk being thrown out into the cold so to speak.

"I didn't escape, Sir. He let me go."

"He let you…why?"

"Bane refused to explain his decision. He dropped me off on the edge of the city and that was that." Blake deliberately held Gordon's gaze. "I'm not compromised, Commissioner. I haven't been brainwashed and while I understand why you and my fellow officers would find that hard to believe…things have to have only gotten worse since I was taken. You must need me and there's nothing I'd like more than to make Bane regret that he let me go."

Numerous voices rising around them in protest, Gordon gave them a moment and then told them to be quiet. Blake would be given a chance to prove himself and that was that.

Thankful for the vote of confidence, but well aware that things were far from settled, Blake assured Gordon that he wouldn't regret giving him this chance.

And damn but he hoped that was true for both their sakes.

)

The new League headquarters in Gotham were a great deal smaller and less fancy than the mansion they'd been staying in previously, and Bane knew rationally that he should have felt more comfortable in these surroundings than he had in the tacky monstrosity they'd left behind. Of course if he were being honest with himself Bane knew what it was that this place lacked that made it so repellent to him. And even if he were to return to the mansion that lack would still be there so there was no point in going back or trying to go somewhere else in a vain attempt to find what he was missing. He knew what he was missing.

When he'd informed Barsad of his decision to let his bird go the other man had stated that they'd have to find a new place to live since Blake would undoubtedly tell them where they'd been staying, Bane's first instinct was to say 'Let them come'. He hadn't, but that was how he'd felt then, the idea of being separated from the place he'd shared with Robin utterly abhorrent on top of everything else. Now he knew Barsad had been right, but that was little comfort to him.

Glancing over to the bed that was one of the few pieces in his room, Bane's eyes lingered and then stayed of the sheets laid over the bed, ones that he'd taken from Robin's room before he left. Those he would keep until the scent of his lover left them.

When the door opened, though it did so soundlessly, Bane's eyes immediately switched over in that direction to watch as Talia came into the room, not making a sound as she walked over to stand in front of him.

"You set your pet free yesterday."

"As you ordered."

"I would imagine many of your men are confused, wondering why you would add to your enemies." The sidelong look Talia gave him as she pretended to glance out the window to her right was telling for all that she likely thought she concealed from him.

"My men do not question me if they wished to live." And though he knew he shouldn't say more than that, Bane was not in the mood to censor his words for her benefit at the moment. He'd given up his bird and his fleeting chance at happiness for her. He had given her more than enough. "Detective Blake deserved the right to die with his men rather than shot while forced into a position of supplication. The end is almost upon us, my decision to let him live will stand until then."

Talia raised a knowing eyebrow as she asked what he would do if the detective got dragged before Crane's court.

"I have given no order for him to be spared in that situation." He didn't doubt that if she'd been the acknowledged leader of this siege she'd have given the orders herself that Robin was to be shot on sight or immediately put on the ice to insure there would be no hope that he could save him.

That thought had Bane remembering the time he'd thought Blake had chosen to drown himself in the bathtub, only to find that his stubborn cop had been training himself for the possibility that me might one day be sent across the ice. The sweet pain of the memory had Bane looking away from her, refusing to let Talia see what he was feeling in his eyes.

But when she took his hand Bane glanced down at their linked fingers, his own having moved out of habit as opposed to a desire on his part to align with her.

"So sad without your pet, My Friend." Talia murmured the words, giving his fingers a squeeze that Bane knew wasn't real sympathy. "I wish I had better news for you about him, but…"

Immediately Bane gave her his full attention, his tone rough and growly as he demanded to know what she meant by that.

"His comrades don't understand why you set him free any more than our men do. They think you have brainwashed or broken him, and that he is another bomb you have placed among their midst. Naturally I wasn't there for his interrogations, but I understand that they were quite harsh with him. It would be very ironic, wouldn't it, if they ended him for us in the end?"

White hot fury washed over Bane at the thought of anyone, least of all his bird's own comrades, causing Blake harm. That he could do nothing to protect his lover, was in fact the reason that these unknown men and women might harm or even kill Robin…how could they not see, not know that Detective Robin John Blake was more devoted to Gotham than anyone else in the city? They were the ones who were crazy if they couldn't see that, not Robin. As far as he was concerned anyone who caused harm to his Robin deserved to be thrown into Arkham-no, into The Pit to rot there for that crime alone.

Talia would have killed his Robin if he hadn't set the man free first.

Sickened by that thought and the ones that had proceeded it, Bane had to look away from her again, especially since he knew in his bones that she'd come to him for the sole purpose of telling him this. To hurt him with the news as well as confirm that he was still hers. That she was the one he'd chosen.

"Just for you I will do what I can to convince them they should trust him. I have much influence over some of them, stupid men that they are. All they see is a pretty face, not looking beneath to the warrior you and father made me."

Talia moving in despite the fact that Bane knew his body language should have warned her not to, Bane tolerated the arms she wrapped around his neck, her body pressed up against his in a way that left him that much colder despite the warmth and comfort such an action would have once brought him. But what he felt for her seemed to be withering and dying inside his heart, the protective case he'd put it in long ago having been shattered like it had been fragile glass by his fierce, determined little bird. And once said heart had been exposed…Robin had taken possession of so much of it, Talia's portion seeming to erode and get smaller in comparison.

And yet he couldn't turn away from her. Couldn't try and cut the ropes that bounded their fates together, and had done so since she was only a baby, surrounded by monsters and expecting him to protect her from them. However withered and dying her hold on his heart might be, it still belonged to her.

As he did until death took him or them both.

)

A week after Bane had set him free Blake was still trying to prove that Gordon's faith wasn't misplaced, spending his days doing mostly menial tasks that wouldn't compromise the men and women he was working with if he wasn't trustworthy. The fact that he might be dead before he could prove to the others that he was on their side was a bitter pill Blake forced himself to swallow, especially since lashing out hadn't ended so well for him the few times actual fighting had been necessary to defend himself. The fact that he was better fed, rested, and had been trained by Bane against his will had meant he'd won those fights pretty easily, which had only pissed everyone off at him even more. That he also missed Bane like a missing limb just made every hour he spent patrolling or playing errand boy that much worse, especially since he couldn't talk to anyone about it without his sanity being called into question.

Not that the now raggedy and mentally exhausted cops he was working with didn't already question his state of mind, Blake thought with a dark humored smirk before he went back to scanning the street around him. He needed to keep his head in the game after all, especially since his quarry wasn't someone who could be caught easily. That he'd done it once before was pretty much a miracle if her record was anything to go by, but Selina Kyle was pretty much the only somewhat neutral person he knew in Gotham who might know something about the bitch running the show around here. She'd been screwed over by Bane's side and had seemed to feel guilty about what had happened to Wayne because of her when they'd last spoken to each other. So maybe, just maybe, she might be willing to at least give him a hint or two if he was very, very lucky.

If nothing else he had a chocolate bar with him that he could try and bribe her with.

Thus far he hadn't had any luck finding her, but word on the street was that this was her territory and trespassers better be very careful what they did while walking her streets. That the odds weren't in his favor hung over him like dark clouds, but Blake was nothing if not determined to be as mule headed as possible when it came to believing that things could get better. Until the city blew up with him in it, or he saw Wayne dead with his own eyes, the survivor in him refused to give up and give in to despair the way so many others had.

He'd told Gordon that Bane had told him that The Batman was on his way back to Gotham and that had seemed to fan the flame of his boss's hope, thank God. Things always got worse when your leader was holding on by a shoestring and it showed. He hadn't told Gordon who Batman was though, that wasn't his place, so Gordon was still a little skeptical that Gotham's former protector would be able to get to the city given how well it was guarded and blocked off. Of course even if he had told the commissioner that probably wouldn't have made things any better since strictly speaking the idea that Wayne could pull it off was pretty ridiculous until you factored in a few things.

The biggest thing to Blake's way of thinking was that Wayne was a former billionaire who had to have money stashed away that he'd be able to access. Yes the man had let his personal finances and such go to hell, and Bane's people had fucked that over even more, but there was no way that the people Wayne would have put in charge of his money hadn't slipped some chunks of it into accounts for tax purposes or just in case scenarios. Plus Wayne had proven that he was willing to die, be branded a criminal, and pretty much hated and vilified for this city, and he had to believe that hadn't changed.

A man who would do that…was not someone you wanted to underestimate.

Smiling at the idea, Blake kept that smile in place for another block until movement from above caught his eyes, drawing his attention so that he had just enough time to see two men being taken down with some serious moves that said to him that the lone female they'd been up against had some serious training of her own. The two males had gone down so quickly and neatly she must have aimed for specific parts of the body that had incapacitated her prey just that fast.

It was as he studied her that Blake realized that she wasn't alone, someone much smaller was with her, and the fact that he was fairly sure that he was looking at his quarry as it occurred to him that badass women of that caliber didn't exactly grow on trees and this was her territory.

Not about to risk losing Kyle now that he might have found her, Blake frantically looked around for the quickest route to where she was, mentally praying in his head that he would reach her before she noticed him and took off before he could get close enough to even confirm it was Kyle. Plus there was the kid to worry about, though there was nothing in her file to suggest the master thief had ever caused harm to a minor.

Unfortunately, as he knew all too well, there was a first time for everything too.

Running up the pavement steps and doing some jumping thanks to the damage that had been done to the road he ended up on, Blake put everything he had into getting to her, his feet coming to a quick, cautious halt when he saw that either his eye sight really needed to be checked and the kid was actually a fully grown male or…or…

"Son of a fucking bitch."

Breaking into a hard run again, not giving a damn that both individuals were staring at him with a mixture of confusion and bemusement, Blake didn't stop until he all but careened into Wayne, throwing his arms around the very startled older man and holding onto him for all he was worth.

"Huh. Suddenly it makes a lot more sense that he was so concerned about you even though everyone was supposed to think you killed Dent. Pretty impressive, Wayne, that you kept the fact that you swing both ways out of the newspapers back in your young and wild days."

"Selina…"

Common sense kicking in enough that he turned his captor loose, Blake took a step back, his ears blushing bright red even as he grinned like a crazy thing. "You made it out. You made it out of The Pit. Bane said you did but…Damn, you made it out!"

Taking the punch to his shoulder with an amused look that shifted into fierce concentration when Kyle asked what 'The Pit' was, Wayne studied her for a moment and then turned his full attention on Blake, who came to full attention in response to the look in his hero's eyes.

"What do you know about Bane?"

"Oh he knows Bane VERY well according to the word on the grapevine." Selina informed Wayne with a knowing little smirk on her face.

"Given that he fucked you over by playing you for a fool and using you, I don't really think you've got any room to throw stones around, Miss. Kyle." And ignoring the slightly stunned and pissed off look she was aiming at him, the truth hurt, Blake focused all his attention on Wayne.

"I need to talk to you in private about what I've learned. You need to listen to me, and more importantly, you need to let people help you this time."


	30. Let Us Help You

Let Us Help You

He'd formulated, actually written down, and discarded any number of ways to lay out the information he'd gathered and the arguments he'd come up with to convince Wayne that he hadn't been compromised during his captivity and that he was still trustworthy. At the moment Blake couldn't remember so much as a sentence as he stared into his hero's eyes, the older man staring right back at him with a fierce, burning gaze that seemed to see right through him.

"I'm listening."

It took a moment for the two words to register and make sense, but then they did and Blake's ears flushed pink as he forced his head back into the game, jerking his head in the direction of the cat burglar watching them with narrowed, interested eyes.

"She's on our side for the moment. I'm asking for help this time." Lips curving into wry amusement Wayne gave Blake a look that said he understood his skepticism, but they were pretty much up shit's creek without a paddle at this point, and their options were beyond limited.

He wanted to argue, but Wayne was right. So he got straight to the point. "I know who has the remote. Al Ghul's daughter has it."

"Who the hell is that?" Kyle wanted to know.

"Daughter? But he said…he led me to believe he didn't have a child."

"Oh crap." Heart sinking Blake's shoulders slumped. "Fuck, I was counting on you knowing what she would look like since you're former League. I figured…I thought with her wanting revenge and all she wouldn't have changed her appearance too much because she would want to look like herself when she killed you. I mean she'd want to be the one, right? Destroying the city would only be part of it. She'd need to see you suffer with her own eyes and…FUCK!"

Kyle crossed her arms in front of her, picking up the conversational slack while Wayne started pacing back and forth in obvious agitation. "I heard a whisper or two that there was a high ranking woman partially in charge of things, but I could never get any solid info on her. What do you know?"

Swiping a hand through his hair in agitation Blake tried to think of something more than the little he had, having no luck. All he knew was that she was probably in her twenties or thirties, was batshit crazy, and had really, really crappy taste in perfume.

"Perfume?"

He worked up a rueful smile. "I hate 'Rosa'."

Both felt rather than saw Wayne stop and go very still in every way possible, Blake and Kyle both giving him their full attention then, sensing that a key had just been turned.

"You're saying that she wears 'Rosa'? The designer perfume?"

"Yeah. Why? That means something?"

Another pause, and then Wayne spoke in a voice as cold and hard as the Artic itself. "It does. And it explains how they were able to access information about my company and the fusion reactor that should have been classified and too heavily shielded for them to access without clearance given the measures Fox took to protect them. It also goes a long way towards explaining her behavior towards me, particularly at our last meeting. Al Ghul's daughter…of course she is."

"A name would be nice, Wayne."

"Miranda. Miranda Tate."

Eyes widening Blake couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. "That's why she joined the resistance, made sure she was at meetings and..." Blake trailed off for a moment as the full weight of this realization hit. "She had so much knowledge about the bomb and had good ideas about how to avoid detection while we–it was all a setup. She wanted to know what we would do before we did it. Probably got off on it too, hanging around us, knowing how desperate we were for that remote while pretending to care and grieve with us. The fucking bitch probably had it on her the whole time!"

Needing to hit something really badly Blake marched over to the side of the road and swearing a blue streak called Miranda pretty much every foul thing he could think of while kicking the road siding since that was all he had at the moment aside from the still unconscious asseholes Kyle had beaten the crap out of. And in the fury he was in he was likely to kick them to death so they were out even though he was liable to break some toes doing what he was doing.

"Stop."

Responding more to the hand Wayne had put on his shoulder than the order itself Blake forced himself to go still, continuing to stare out towards his battered and nearly broken city as hate continued to flow through his blood like boiling hot lava. He could all but taste Miranda Tate's blood and if she were standing right in front of him he'd snap her neck like a twig. Or worse. Much worse.

"We need to find out where she and Lucius Fox are. Then we need to get that remote away from her and figure out -"

"Crane has them. Or had then, since Fox might be dead at this point. She'll be alive though, if you're right and she's the one you're looking for." The finger Kyle pointed in Wayne's direction was full of warning. "I'm not helping you with her. Fox yes, but after that I'm out of here."

Inclining his head in understanding Wayne kept his hand on Blake's shoulder as he lapsed into thoughtful silence before asking if she would be willing to use her very skilled hands to slip a tracker onto Miranda's person if the opportunity presented itself when they retrieved Fox.

A slow, very feline response was her answer.

)

It was nearly dinnertime, Blake ignoring the grumblings of his stomach since the granola bar he'd consumed early had not only not put a dent in his hunger, but had sucked period. He hated the damn things, but he'd given the majority of the food Bane had given him away to those who hadn't had a decent meal in months, and the granola was easy to carry around with him. It also didn't help that he was freezing his ass off, but whenever that got to be too much for him he just remembered how Tate had been using Bane and making a fool out of the cops who'd worked alongside her and his blood got more than hot enough to shake off the chill for a little bit.

Beside him Gordon was even quieter, having ordered radio silence unless absolutely necessary as the seven man team they'd hastily thrown together waited for Tate to leave Crane's court. The commissioner had the device connected to the tracker Kyle had slipped onto their target's person, and thus far she had moved around very little. But she couldn't be planning to just stick around the hall until whatever the next stage of her plan happened. That made no sense. Of course Gordon had also thought his theory that Tate was the real mastermind behind Gotham's occupation was ridiculous and a product of his traumatized mind at first too. Or the commissioner had up until Blake had given him one of Batman's boomerang thingies and a letter from the man himself. He didn't know what it had said, but Gordon had stopped arguing with him and now here they were.

"She's moving again."

Immediately shifting his attention Blake leaned in close, lowering his gaze to the screen Gordon tilted in his direction. As they watched she moved further and further…

"She's leaving."

"She is." With a downright feral look on his face, the commissioner had not taken the news of Tate's betrayal well, Gordon used his earpiece to alert the others while he and Blake took off running out of the alleyway they'd been hiding in to get closer to the exit they know knew Tate was likely heading for. They'd planned for this possible exit, there were two men watching that exit, but this was personal.

Even if they weren't the ones taking the bitch down, they were damn well going to see it.

Eyes flicking back and forth from the screen to the scenery in front of them, the two stopped at the corner and drawing their weapons waited for their prey to come into view. They didn't have to wait long, Miranda Tate stepping out of the building unescorted moments later, the woman looking around and-running.

Something had given them away.

Refusing to lose her, to lose this chance, Blake blocked out the fact that she was precious to Bane and aiming his gun started shooting at her, aiming for her legs because…because he couldn't shoot to kill unless he had to. But she'd been trained for this, moving in an unpredictable pattern to avoid the shots though a couple of his bullets winged her leg and hip as he ran after her, one of the darts from the tranq gun being carried by one of the other men hitting her from above though she yanked it out right away without breaking stride.

It was obvious she knew the streets they were running through, but so did he and Blake knew in his gut that if he just stayed on her, he could catch her. Already she was starting to slow down ever so slightly, the dart's contents and the minor wounds starting to kick in a little, and he was in damn good shape at the moment with one hell of a motivation to catch her.

They didn't speak to each other, but then this wasn't a cop running after a criminal. Not today. They were two opposing predators fighting for their territory, and air was too valuable to waste with trash talk or threats.

When she went running through an empty doorway, The five storey office building's main door in broken pieces under the snow, Blake consider for a moment that he was following her into some sort of trap but he couldn't let that stop him, not now. He had to risk it as he barged in after her.

Following the sounds of the slammed door Blake jerked it open and headed up the metal staircase, his ears picking up the occasional sound of stumbling feet stepping wrong on the steps above him though she kept going and Blake had to follow, gaining on her with every floor they passed. That she was headed for the roof made no sense, but where she went he was prepared to follow.

She left the door open for him this time, which had him tensed and ready with his gun as he burst out the doorway and started to make-son of a bitch!

The kick landed hard and true, the gun spurting out of his hand as he went flying backward and rolling on the snow and ice covered concrete. With the wind knocked out of him courtesy of her kick and his mad dashing Blake watched her come out of the shadows like the darkest of fallen angels, hands full.

"What's the matter, Blake? Too kind and gentle to fight back? I found the tracker while I was running, it won't help you now."

Well shit, that wasn't good.

Dodging out of the way of the large, club like hunk of wood she now aimed for his head, Blake found himself only just able to get back onto his feet before the next swing. Forced onto the defensive as he dodged her makeshift club, Blake did his best to get a couple kicks in without a lot of luck since Bane had obviously spent way more time training her than him. He was going to get his ass handed to him by the bitch if he didn't figure something out first.

In desperation he tried to take the damn club from her, managing after several painful blows to grab one side and then, after using a move Bane had taught him, managing to grab the other end so that they could fight for control of it, though again she quickly got control of it again and sent him flying to the ground once again. And while her face was cloaked in the winter darkness…Blake could feel the bloodlust radiating off of her.

"Tell me something, Blake." Her voice was a purr, the rich girl guise dropped now and the accent similar to Bane as she slowly slinked closer to him. "Were you in love with him, Detective? Did you honestly think he'd want you, when he had someone like me?"

"Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure that Bane has too much class to sleep with a whore that would fuck around with the man she blames for her father's death." Wayne hadn't said as much, but he'd gotten that vibe earlier. Judging by her furious scream, he'd been right.

She came at him like a fury now, tossing the club at him before moving in for the kill with blows that probably would have ended with his demise but for the drug in her system, fury clouding her judgement and aim. But it took all he had to concentrate on avoiding her kill shots, and that was before she suddenly revealed that she'd had a knife on her the whole time and had decided to bring it play.

If not for the vest he'd worn under his coat she'd have cut him to ribbons then, Blake receiving relatively minor cuts all over his less protected skin while she screamed at him that he'd rue the day he'd dare to challenge Talia al Ghul and tried to steal Bane from her.

It was his sense of impeding doom that had him tackling her, the two of the rolling around on the snow covered concrete like idiots right up until she managed to shove him off, the force behind the move pushing her backward on her side. And as they'd both been too focused on the other to pay attention to anything else, they were both unaware that they had gotten dangerously close to the edge until it was too late. The structural damage the building had suffered earlier did the rest then, buckling just enough that she went rolling off the edge.

Diving forward out of instinct Blake locked his fingers around her lower arm just in time, the detective digging his fingers into her flesh with all the strength he had as his other hand braced against the side for support. And staring down at her the darkness that lived inside him howled for her death, to avenge those that had died and might still die because of her. But the part that loved Bane in spite of himself couldn't let her go. Not when Bane loved her so much. He had to try and save her.

"Give me your other hand!"

"You think I'll let you put me in a prison again?" Her words now noticeably slurred, Talia glared at him with pure hate. "Never again. And Bane will destroy you and your precious city in my name."

And so saying Talia used her last bit of strength to stab out with her knife, Blake letting her go to avoid being stabbed. So down she went, Blake watching her fall with complete detachment now as he saw her drop the knife and shove her hand into her pant pocket. Her roar of fury reached his ears a heartbeat before the sound of her body hitting pavement replaced it, the sudden silence oddly fitting.

With a cool numbness Blake took a seat on the concrete and sliding a hand under his coat and the armored vest he was wearing ripped a part of his shirt off to use as a temporary bandage for the worst cut high on his right arm. And when that was done Blake got to his feet and walked a couple meters away to retrieve the remote he'd dropped there during that last struggle for control before the fall.

It hadn't been easy, but he'd been born in one of Gotham's worst neighborhoods. Learning to pick a pocket was something kids tended to learn early there as a rite of passage. He hadn't lost his touch it seemed.

)

Vaguely aware of the multiple cuts and possible internal injuries, Blake prayed he wouldn't pass out from blood loss before he found the others as he left the roof. Luck was with him though, a member of the team meeting him partway down the stairwell. They paused for some more quick First Aid and then together headed out onto the street where three other members of the group, including Gordon, were standing around whatever was left of Talia al Ghul's body. And since he didn't want to see what was left of her, he'd have enough nightmares to last a lifetime thanks to her anyway, Blake called for them to come to him, handing the remote over to Gordon as soon as the commissioner was within arm's reach.

Taking it from him Gordon sighed with relief and then really seeing him in the streetlight's glow asked for a report.

Nodding, Blake relayed everything that had happened since they'd lost contact with each other, keeping it as brief and to the point as possible.

Gordon listened and then stated that Blake had done well. Now they just needed to figure out how to get the damn bomb and then all this would end. They needed to get into contact with Batman and go from there.

"Or I could make this easier on all of us."

The other four jumped and whirled around to track the voice, Blake too woozy and beaten up to react. And besides, he recognized the voice even before Barsad came out of the shadows he seemed to live in, visibly unarmed though Blake figured that that was deceiving. Not that Barsad probably needed any weapons aside from his body to kill them all here and now without sustaining any real injury.

But he did step in front of Gordon, the others copying his move with their guns drawn and ready.

"Talia is dead." Barsad informed him bluntly, ignoring the others as his gaze remained on Blake. "Therefore the League of Shadows' reason for being here is dead. Bane will not seek your city's destruction…or at least he won't if given something of equal value. Or someone in this case."

"You think he'll trade the bomb for me?"

"I believe it's worth risking our lives to attempt. I'll take proof of her death and you to him. The rest will be up to you."

Gordon's hand latched into Blake's shoulder. "He's not going anywhere with you."

A rueful smile crossing his lips, Blake shook his head and then turned it as much as he was able to given the older man's grip.

"Respectfully, Sir, that's not your call to make."


	31. Because You See

Happy Early Valentines' Day! XOXOX

Because You See

Convincing his fellow cops, especially Gordon, that they shouldn't arrest Barsad was hard enough, much less getting it through their instinctively loyal heads that it was his decision to go with the mercenary, and that they needed to let him go. Barsad threatening to just knock them all out, the longer they stood out here the more precarious the situation became which didn't help Blake one little bit, but eventually he convinced his fellow cops to stand down. From his pocket Blake pulled out an envelope that was a little dirty, giving it to Gordon with the request that he see that The Batman got it the next time the two met up.

Making no effort to hide that he was pissed and didn't like any of this one little bit, Gordon had to take a calming breath before he took it, promising that he would.

Giving the cops a sincere salute, Blake promised Gordon he'd contact him with the info about the bomb as soon as he could if he succeeded.

While Blake said his goodbyes Barsad retrieved something off the remains that had once been Talia al Ghul, and after letting the cops see that it was a simple bracelet, nothing more, they allowed the mercenary to take both it and Blake away.

They walked a few blocks in silence, Barsad leading the way to an all-terrain that had been cleverly hidden from view in a shadowy alleyway. Unlocking it, Barsad headed for the passenger side, opening the door and holding it for Blake.

"Since when did you become a gentleman? Or do I look that bad?"

"You look that bad."

"And Bane really worried I'd ever be interested in you." Rolling his eyes Blake walked over and took the passenger seat, not surprised when Barsad demanded to see the full extent of his injuries before making it clear he'd do some serious damage of his own if Blake were to 'forget' to mention something.

Blake's Igor like rendition of 'Yes, Master' got him a slap upside the head.

Cursing and rubbing the back of his head, Blake would have given the man the middle finger but he was just too tired, especially now that he was sitting down and knew he could depend on Barsad to keep him safe until he was up to doing his own protecting. Which made him pretty stupid, this was Barsad after all, but he knew right now he was too valuable not to be protected. At least for now.

So he allowed Barsad to poke and prod his injuries, cursing when the mercenary hit a sore spot but a little smug when Barsad admitted at the end of it that he'd been patched up pretty well, though Barsad did butterfly bandaged a couple of the deeper cuts Talia had made with her blade before he shut the car door and then went around to take the driver's seat.

Again they lapsed into silence as they drove out of the alley and through Gotham's streets, Blake waiting until they'd been driving for about ten minutes before he felt he needed to speak up, especially since he didn't know where they were going or how much time he had before he'd be looking Bane in the eye again.

"It was my fault, her dying. You really think he's not going to snap my neck over that?"

Still looking straight ahead, Barsad didn't even spar him a glance. "I'll be the one doing the explaining, especially since he would snap your neck if you said that to him now."

"I can't-Barsad, I can't lie to him about that. Not only would he eventually figure it out but-"

"You're an idiot. You both are." Barsad's sigh was one of a man carrying a great weight on his shoulders. "You didn't kill her, she killed herself. Being the idiot that you are, you were actually trying to save her even though she'd have slit your throat open if she had taken that hand you offered. I have no intention of lying to him, I will tell him the truth. You're simply incapable of seeing it clearly."

"She wouldn't have been up on that roof if not for me."

"Blake…don't make me knock you unconscious. Shut up until I tell you to do otherwise."

Glaring at him, but also well aware that Barsad wasn't joking and was very capable of taking him out embarrassingly easy given the state he was in, Blake crossed his arms in front of him and basically sulked for the next five minutes until the loud complaints of his body, combined with the mental and emotional blows he'd been taking recently, caught up with him enough that he just closed his eyes and prayed for the strength to survive long enough to fix what could be fixed.

He'd mourn what couldn't be changed if he lived long enough for that.

They eventually pulled into a parking garage connected to a large skyscraper, Blake not questioning why they'd picked it as he quietly followed Barsad, taking the man's words to heart when he saw the guards waiting at the elevator.

What Barsad said to them he didn't know, he didn't speak the language, but they were let in and didn't run into any problems until they'd reached the top floor, the guards there all pointing their guns in his direction with Barsad only having a split second to stand in front of him, physically acting as a shield.

Following close when Barsad stepped out, his voice very angry sounding, Blake watched over the mercenary's shoulder as the guards all watching him like hawks while another man he assumed was much higher up on the food chain argued with Barsad, with a lot of pointing in Blake's direction. But Barsad wasn't someone to mess with, and eventually they were let through, Blake fully expecting to be shot in the back as he and Barsad alone headed down a plushly carpeted hallway.

"Talia gave orders for you to be shot on sight unless Bane was present."

Appreciating the explanation, he wasn't allowed to talk yet after all, Blake nodded even though the other man couldn't see it.

"You will come in, you will not speak. You will not approach him until I signal you, understand?"

"Yes."

)

When the knock sounded on his door Bane was tempted to ignore it, but he knew that wasn't an option, especially when odds were it was important given the impending end of the occupation and Gotham itself. So he ordered whoever it was to enter, coming around the desk to face down whoever it was who'd disturbed him. When Barsad came in he was surprised, and was opening his mouth to demand to know why the man wasn't where he was supposed to be when Blake stepped into view.

"Why is he here?!" His words came out like a snake's hiss, Bane's shock written all over what was visible as he forced himself to glare at Barsad, unable to bear looking into his bird's eyes for even a moment.

Bane couldn't catch what Barsad murmured to Blake, but the younger man stayed by the door while Barsad walked over to stand in front of him, continuing to hold his gaze with a look in the other man's eyes told him to expect the worst.

"The cops found out that Talia was with us and attempted to arrest her." Barsad spoke his native tongue, Bane understanding him perfectly. "They darted her, and she was so disoriented she chose poorly in her attempt to escape, climbing stairs to the top of a building. I was nearby, and got into position to act as sniper cover, but it was too late. By then she'd stepped on a structurally unstable part of the roof and had fallen, the only thing keeping her from plummeting Blake. He grabbed her arm and risked his life to save her for you."

Eyes widening, realizing that Talia had been taken by the cops and Blake had been sent to negotiate-was he here to negotiate? That made no sense, and Talia would have rather death than be taken-

Bane's thoughts cut off abruptly as he saw what Barsad had withdrawn his pocket, the bracelet recognizable even with the fresh blood splattered all over it.

"She forced him to let her go. She died on impact."

His hand visibly shaking Bane took the bracelet, staring dumbly at the blood that now stained his skin. It just didn't compute, he couldn't understand. She-Talia couldn't be dead. She was…he'd spoken to her only…

Eyes going to Blake's, he couldn't stop himself, it was the compassion and pity he saw in the other man's eyes that made it all real to Bane.

Collapsing onto his knees like all the strength had gone out of him, his breaths coming out harsh and in fits and starts, Bane stared down at the open hand he continued to hold out for viewing, the bracelet and blood etching themselves on his mind even as hundreds of memories flashed through his mind from the past. Talia's smile, her first step, the sight of her climbing out of The Pit to freedom and then being reunited when the League had come for him and…

And then in his peripheral vision Bane saw two knees, felt hands gently, hesitantly place themselves on his shoulders. Knowing those hands even through the fabric of his shirt, Bane slowly lifted his head just enough to stare in heartbroken silence at perhaps the only man who could pull him out of the darkness he could feel trying to take him, threatening to extinguish what little light he could still see.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save her for you. I-I tried."

"For me?"

"For you." Blake's hands, so warm and loving, moved to cup his leather covered cheeks, the detective shuffling a little closer on his knees to add to the contact.

And it was the anchor of that touch, as well as the other man's closer proximity, that sharpened Bane's attention just enough that he saw the scratches, the bruises on Robin's exposed skin, the slices in the coat his bird was still wearing. All were fresh, likely courtesy of Talia in her fight to escape capture, and still Blake had tried to save her…for him. Talia would have killed him, the darting Barsad mentioned likely the only thing that had saved Blake from an untimely death at Talia's hand. She wouldn't have hesitated for a moment.

"How did you know?"

A hesitation, and then Blake took a deep breath and met his gaze straight on. "She made herself stand out too much. She got involved with Wayne, us cops…and it was obvious to me that there was someone else in charge while I was here. So part of it is on me, for telling the others what I thought. I can't…won't regret that I did, either. But if you'll let me, this doesn't have to end with all of us broken."

"What do you mean?"

"We have the remote, Bane. If you'll give Gordon the bomb, let us end this…I'll leave Gotham with you. We'll go wherever you want, and as long as you never do what you did here anywhere else, I give you my word I'll never leave you." Pause. "She died believing she'd get the revenge she wanted. You gave Talia what she wanted. Now you need to do what YOU think is best. Please pick me."

In his head Bane knew that he should just blow up the city and all of them with it now. That if he did that everything would end, freeing him of the pain of his loss and the tearing guilt and shame knowing that a part of him wasn't even truly sorry that she was dead. A part of him that recognized that Talia had become as twisted and corrupt as Gotham City, and that if not for his time with Robin he might have continued to serve her to their complete, moral destruction.

And asking his bird to stay with him always, knowing why he did…

"You'd do that for this city, stay with me?"

"Yes. And because…" Blake ducked his head, hiding his face from view before resolutely lifting his head again to meet Bane's gaze. "Because I love you, and I'm not done trying to save you."

Watching the other man's gaze lower again Bane didn't believe it, couldn't believe that Robin John Blake loved him, or at least not to the degree that he loved his bird. And if he were a good man Bane knew that he'd either end them all here and now or just give them the bomb and let his bird continue to fly free and go back to the life he'd had before he'd ever come to Gotham…but Bane couldn't do it. He couldn't be that selfless, couldn't let Robin go a second time.

"I will give you the bomb." He said softly, waiting until Blake met his gaze again before continuing. "And in exchange you will leave with me."

A small smile, the mood too sober for more than that. "It's a deal."

Nodding in return Bane lowered his head to rest it against Blake's shoulder, the smaller man's arms coming up to hold him as best they could.

Bane gave Barsad the order to see to it that Gordon got his bomb, and to arrange for them to leave as soon as possible. He never wanted to step foot in Gotham again.

He just wanted Robin.

)

Three Months Later

Bane climbed the stone stairs to the second floor of the small villa they were currently living in, the former mercenary stomping his way down the hallway before entering the master bedroom. He was in a foul mood obviously, one hand placed over his face to keep his now useless mask over his mouth. He'd lost weight in his grief, even in his face, and the result of his loss of appetite was that his mask no longer fit his face properly. Minutes before, while attempting to work out in the hot midday heat, he'd jerked on one of the straps in frustration and broken it in his impatience. He had a spare mask, that wasn't the issue, but that would fit no better and he hated the physical reminder that he'd let himself become weak. The whole situation he was in, the life he was living now, today it infuriated him beyond all words and he wanted to put his fist through the walls over and over until he-

Staring, unable to believe what he was seeing, Bane felt his heart literally stop at the sight of his shirtless cop lying sprawled out on his side on the sundrenched balcony, unmoving, so still that only Blake's hair moved faintly in the weak breeze.

The mask hitting the floor with a dull thud Bane didn't give it another thought as he ran over to drop to his knees beside his lover's side, wrenching Blake up and into his arms, tearing the sunglasses off his lover's face and tossing them aside with one hand so that he could see more of Robin's face.

And then his heart started to beat again, his Robin's eyelashes fluttering and then opening, the cop's brows furrowing in confusion as Blake stared up at him questioningly.

"Bane?"

Not understanding why Blake's eyes were roaming over his face before concentrating intently on maintaining eye contact, Bane was about to ask what had happened when the way the other man's face lit up with such happiness and love that it stole his breath all over again.

And then his bird was surging forward to kiss him, and feeling Robin's hands cradle his face Bane realized what had happened, his body going ridged in reaction to the shock. Now he knew why the man had looked at him in such confusion before settling on his eyes, the one aspect of his facial features Blake knew well visually.

Apparently oblivious to his reaction though, or too caught up in the moment and the kissing, Robin kissed Bane very thoroughly before lifting his head to beam at him, fingers stroking all over his face. "Finally. Finally you took that stupid thing off and let me see you, My Sexy, Sexy Man."

Stunned, Bane actually stuttered over the words, "But the scars…"

"Like I care." Blake continued to grin at him like an idiot as he leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching. "They're just scars, I've got my own even if you do have way more. They're just lines and thin bumps on your skin. Don't tell me you intend to dump my fine ass when I'm not so young and sexy anymore? I know you're no Prince Charming," He teased. "But I thought you loved me more than that."

Realizing, allowing himself to both realize and believe completely for the first time that Robin's claim that he loved him was the truth, Bane felt the unbearable weight of guilt he'd been carrying since he'd taken Blake from Gotham start to dissipate, leaving nothing but indescribable happiness behind. The love of his life wasn't with him to decommission the weapon he'd become, or as a martyr that had left with him to save the city he'd sworn to protect. No, he could see the truth in Blake's eyes, a truth that had probably been there all along and he'd been just too focused on himself to see...

"You love me."

"I love you."

"And we're going to grow old together and you'll never leave me."

"That's the plan."

Breaking out in a small but so very happy smile of his own, Bane nodded his agreement of that plan and then hugged his bird tightly against him, planning to never, ever let him go.

He'd stopped believing in Happily Ever After a long time ago…but if it was possible in this world, he'd have it with his Robin. He was sure of it now.

 

So Tale as Old as Time, Song as Old as Rhyme, Blake and the Beast

The End

)

Well thanks for reading until the end, here are the final spoilers so to speak about the Disney twists for the last few chapters, which were few and far between at points due to plot points.

Chapter twenty-seven was the snowball fight, twenty-eight was Bane actually letting Blake go, and Blake's "Thank you for understanding' comment, which was Belle's line. Twenty-nine was Blake and Gordon's lines/reunion, taken from Belle and her father's reunion after she leaves the castle. Thirty was the rooftop fight between Blake and Talia, echoing the Beast's fight with Gaston, Talia's lines were Gaston's, and Blake trying to rescue Talia after she fell, and Talia responding with violence before plummeting to her death continued the parallels. Finally, from this final chapter, we have Blake lying on a balcony, Bane thinking him dead, and Blake seeing and recognizing Bane by his eyes, and the rest is obvious lol.


End file.
